More than this
by TheGethhaveacrushonme
Summary: Present-day high school AU, also everyone's human. Jack and Miranda like each other, but they are reluctant to act on their feelings. Shepard decides to meddle. Rating changed to M to be on the safe side. Updated once a week (-ish).
1. Chapter 1

Her real name was Jennifer, but nobody who had an interest in keeping all their teeth would have called her that. She went by "Jack". And even then there was still a fairly good chance you might end up face down on the curb. She was trouble. Anyone could tell. She had an undercut, and usually wore a leather jacket, biker boots, tank top and baggy pants on a deceptively skinny frame.

So far, she hadn't made any friends at the school she'd transferred to a few months ago, but a good number of enemies. Not that she seemed to care, or even notice much.

Miranda wouldn't have wasted a single thought on her if she hadn't been getting really good grades. It irked her. As if it wasn't enough that that Jane Shepard girl was becoming increasingly popular without even trying. At least she didn't run for student council. Yet.

She'd never hear the end of it if she wouldn't get re-elected.

She was watching her through the library window. Jack was standing just outside the school perimeter, smoking in a devil-may-care manner. Something about her was strangely enviable, Miranda had to admit. All that freedom. She was sure nobody forced that girl to attend violin practice and join tedious extracurricular clubs and school pseudo-politics. Nobody probably had a say in who she got involved with, either.

_He's doing it for you_, she chided herself the next moment and looked away, forcing her attention back to the essay she was trying to finish. After another twenty minutes, she gave up for the day. She should be getting ready for her violin sessions, anyway.

The sharp scent of tobacco announced her, even before Miranda had turned around and looked up at her. God, she'd never seen her up close. Despite her get up – or maybe because of it – her pale, heart-shaped face had an almost vulnerable quality about it. Like a porcelain doll someone had had their way with. She had beautiful brown eyes rimmed in heavy black eyeliner. And her lips... Miranda felt something in the pit of her stomach stir.

"Do you still need that book, cheerleader?" she asked gruffly.

"I'm not a cheerleader," Miranda said automatically.

"Huh. I suppose you all just look the same, then."

"Charming." For a moment she wanted to tell her to get lost, but then she'd probably have to stay here longer, and she couldn't do that just to spite the other girl. "I'm done here. Shouldn't you burst into flame in a library or something?" she added as an afterthought.

"Aw, she thinks she's funny. That's not a redeeming quality in a girl like you."

Miranda narrowed her eyes.

"Tell me about girls like me and I'll tell you all about the attention-seeking little fuck who thinks she's so godawfully different from everyone else, because she's oh so edgy and dresses differently. Shocking!"

Miranda couldn't help herself. Would she get beaten up in the school library? Part of her suddenly hoped the other girl would be expelled for that. Another part of her really, really liked her teeth and didn't want to lose them. She steeled herself, she'd had a lot of self-defense lessons after all, but the other girl just raised her eyebrows mockingly.

"You're spunky for a posh little princess. That's sort of cute. Don't be scared, I don't usually beat up people who have no chance of fighting back."

The smug grin bothered her, but Miranda was smart enough to realise she probably shouldn't test Jack's limits any further. She grabbed the history book and held it out to the other girl.

"Here, book, now leave me alone."

She packed her stuff, then turned around again and gave her another glare.

"Why are you still here?"

"I'm waiting for you to leave, this is a nice spot. Secluded."

"Not secluded enough," Miranda muttered under her breath, huffed, and took her bag and jacket. "You're in my way."

Jack took a step back, but Miranda still had to brush against her as she made to leave. She forced herself not to look back as she walked along the rows of books and desks, but she froze when a slightly hoarse voice yelled after her:

"Now I remember you! You're that girl with the great ass!"

Fortunately, there was hardly anyone left in the library, and nobody saw her face grow fiercely red as she walked off, flustered and irritated and confused.

. . . . .

"Really now?"

"Hey, cheerleader."

"My name is Miranda. And this is my spot!"

Jack raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, I must have missed the sign."

Miranda glared at her.

"There is an empty chair next to me. And if you need that book on the westward expansion, it's right here."

"Ugh, dammit."

Miranda sat down reluctantly.

It wasn't as bad as she'd expected. Jack was quiet and astonishingly studious, and she said she'd taken enough notes for Miranda to have the book for a while. She still felt on edge, but it dissipated after a while.

"You really need to eat something!" Jack laughed.

"Sorry," Miranda muttered.

"That sounded downright feral."

Miranda's stomach growled again.

"You're not one of those girls, are you?" Jack asked.

"What kind of girl now?"

"The ones who don't eat."

Miranda rolled her eyes.

"Of course I eat. It's just not on my schedule for the next two hours."

"Seriously?"

Miranda quickly drank some water.

"That won't help for long. Come on, you're not sitting here next to me distracting me with those noises."

"Hush, don't make a scene!"

Jack pursed her lips.

"Come on. Break. You need to eat something and I need a smoke."

Miranda rolled her eyes, but reluctantly followed the other girl outside, hoping no one would see them together.

. . . . .

Jack watched the other girl wolf down her burger. She didn't seem the type who ate fast food a lot. Probably had a maid to cook healthy, wholesome meals for her. Jack dragged on her cigarette one last time, then crushed the butt under her heel. She raised her eyebrows and smirked as Miranda licked her fingers clean. That, she thought, that was just a little bit hot.

She put her foot down on the bench next to Miranda and leant over her.

"You've got something on your upper lip," she said and brushed her finger over a trace of ketchup, lingered on the soft, warm skin for a second too long. Pale blue eyes widened as Jack looked into them, then she took her hand away and licked the offending condiment off her own finger.

"You smell like an ashtray!" Miranda said a moment later, pulling away.

"And here I thought we were having a moment."

Jack almost sniggered at the confused, slightly pissed-off look the other girl gave her. So far she had stayed away from the other students, but this one was just too much fun to mess with. Cute, too.

"Tell me about that tight schedule of yours that doesn't allow for food when you're hungry."

"I have lots of things to do and right now I'm behind on that essay."

"Because you took in nourishment! Simple carbs and saturated fat, the best kind of nourishment!"

Miranda shook her head.

"What else do you have to do today?"

"Student council meeting from 5 to 6.30. Dinner, 7 to 7:30. Shower, probably. Study from 8 to 10. Maybe read something, go to bed at 11."

"You. Are. Fucking. Kidding. Me!"

Jack stared at her.

"Is that some kind of control freak thing?"

"I didn't ask for your opinion!"

"Are all your days like that?"

"And what if they are?"

Jack shook her head.

"What right have you to judge me? I mean, look at you!"

Jack's eyes narrowed.

"Yes, tell me what's wrong with me. I can't wait. You seem to have some insights there. Let's hear them."

Miranda just got up and walked past her.

"Fucking stuck-up bitch!"

Jack let herself fall onto the bench and lit another cigarette after a moment.

All right. All right. She knew this had been her fault. Damn, she just couldn't be subtle. Ever. But on second thought, it was funny how defensive the other girl had gotten at once. Wasn't it?

Fuck. She probably ought to apologize. She hated that shit.

. . . . .

Miranda stared at the lumpy little parcel with her name on it. She looked around in the library, then sat down and opened it furtively. She felt her face grow hot as she read the small message, written in tall, loopy handwriting.

_'I'm a fucking idiot. Sorry for what I said yesterday. Got you some sugar and fat because we're evolutionarily unable to resist the combination, also caffeine for your essay. j'_

Miranda unpacked the chocolate-covered coffee beans in disbelief. But she couldn't stop the slow smile spreading on her lips. Thoughtful, she thought. Downright sweet. The nicest thing anyone had done for her in a long time. She'd been in a bad mood all day. Ever since she'd stormed off the day before. She shouldn't have been bothered like that, part of her realized. And she shouldn't be so happy now, either. And her heart shouldn't have raced the way it had done when Jack's fingertip had touched her lip the day before. And she shouldn't be thinking of those eyes, and those lips, and that indomitable strut.

And she really had to finish that essay.

. . . . .

"You're in a good mood tonight."

Miranda's hand clenched around the note in the pocket of her jeans.

"I've finished an essay today. And violin practice went very well."

Neither of which was a lie.

Her father looked at her for a moment and she felt like he was seeing right into her.

She'd never mention Jack.

"Jason is coming over for dinner tomorrow."

"Yes, I know," she said, fingers gently rubbing over paper.

"Good."


	2. Chapter 2

Jack hated Mondays. She knew it was not a very unique trait, but there was nothing she could do about it. But somehow, this time, she'd found herself looking forward to the start of a new school week.

Miranda hadn't been in the library on Friday. Perhaps there was something else on her schedule on Friday afternoon. Probably.  
She wondered if she'd liked her apology.

She even spent her lunch break in the cafeteria for once, trying to catch a glimpse of the other girl.

And boy, did she catch a glimpse.

A glimpse of her boyfriend.

Smarmy git, with his arm around her.

Jack wanted to break it.

Miranda didn't look in her direction once.

"Do you mind if I sit down here?"

Jack's head whipped around and she glared at the red-haired girl, who just kept smiling at her serenely, heavily laden tray in hand. She'd seen her before. She was new, too, but a year above her, and unlike Jack, she seemed to love making friends and influencing people, or shit like that.

"Whatever, I just wanted to leave anyway."

She shot another murderous glance at Miranda's table and the redhead followed her gaze with interest.

"You haven't eaten yet," she pointed out.

"What?" Jack looked down at her tray. "Not hungry, anymore. Tastes like cardboard, anyway."

"Yes, it's the special flavor this week."

Something about her made Jack not snap at her. She just shook her head and left, not bothering to return the tray.

She didn't care.

Hell, did she not care.

. . . . .

"Hey, love."

Jane watched Liara smile and blush. Even on the small screen of her notebook it was still the most beautiful thing in the world.

"Hey."

"Missed me?"

"Like a caged animal misses freedom."

Jane laughed.

"I never expect you to top your latest line, but you always do."

"I have too much time to think about how much I miss you. How are you?"

"Good. Considering you're not here, I mean. The people here are... interesting."

"Interesting good or interesting bad?"

"I can't tell yet. I told you about the student council president?"

"I think your words were 'the most arrogant Miss Universe contender I have ever seen'."

"Yeah, exactly that one. Get this. There's this girl, a year below me, goes by the name of Jack, she looks like trouble. The complete opposite of her. Always standing outside the school, smoking, dressed like something from a bad 80s rock video."

"Trying to picture that... alright, go on."

"I was in the library on Thursday, studying. And she caught my eye, because it's really hard not to notice her. She was almost sneaking and I wondered what she was up to. And she puts some sort of lumpy paper thing onto one of the desks at the very back of the library, hidden little nook thing, and leaves again."

"Did you look?" Liara was smirking.

"What choice did I have? You don't know my girlfriend, she loves gossip, she'd rip my head off if I hadn't looked!"

"Hey!"

Jane chuckled.

"I didn't open it! But it had the student council president's name on it. It's 'Miranda', by the way."

"Odd."

"So I hung around. Did some more homework, started on an essay, and then Miranda came along, and I hid behind a bookshelf and watched and I'm not sure what was in the parcel, but it made her smile like... I suppose the way I smile when I see you. Just that it was really odd on her face."

"Oh, that's cute," Liara said with a smile.

"But it gets more complicated! Someone's totally in the closet, it seems. 'cause today at lunch, that guy Jason, he's in my biology class, stuck-up sort of guy, thinks he's a gift to the world, is all over Miranda, and Jack sits there, watching them, fuming. So I tried to casually engage her in a conversation, but she ran off. I ate two lunches today, by the way."

"You're going to meddle, aren't you?"

"You should see them, they'd make the cutest, most adorably dysfunctional couple you've ever seen! This needs to happen."

"Try not to push them too hard, sometimes people just aren't ready."

"I promise I'll be totally subtle and kind and I won't stand behind them and shout 'Kiss!'"

Liara laughed.

"That's good to know."

"Those were my news. What about you, love?"

. . . . .

"Sorry, Jane, I don't know much about her. Just that she takes herself way too seriously. But you should ask Jacob, he eats at their table on occasion."

"Thanks, Garrus, I'll do that."

"What's going on?" Garrus asked suspiciously.

"It's a secret."

Jane winked at him. She and Garrus had hit it off the day they'd met.

"She's not your type, is she?"

Jane laughed.

"No, I like girls who are sweet and a little awkward and named Liara."

"Good. I'm relieved. Now come on, what's the secret?"

"I can't tell you yet."

"That's just mean."

"Oh look, there's Jacob now!"

She waved at the boy and he sat down next to them, smiling broadly.

"Hey Jane, Garrus. Something the matter?"

"Tell me all about Miranda Lawson!"

Jacob choked on his sportsdrink and Jane hit him on the back a few times.

"That was unnecessarily hard!" he complained. "Gee, how do you even know about Miranda? That was more than a year ago."

Jane's eyes widened.

"You were an item?"

Jacob stared at her.

"You didn't know?" He grimaced.

"I just wanted information on her, but this! This is even better. Do tell!"

"Shit," Jacob muttered, cast a glance at the other table, but Miranda wasn't even there. "Why do you want information on her?"

"It's a project I'm working on!"

"What?"

"Come on, spill!"

"I swear, you're the weirdest person I've ever met. Oh, what the hell. It wasn't anything much, really. We had a few dates. Made out a little. But the chemistry was all wrong, and then there was her dad..."

"He didn't like you?"

"Yeah, she took me home one evening and he was polite, but gave her a look that very clearly communicated 'I expected you to do better than that'. First I thought it was just because I'm black, but I've heard things about that guy from other people... It seems he does that a lot even with her friends. And she always folds."

"That sounds super creepy," Jane muttered, frowning. "And who is that Jason guy she's hanging out with?"

"Oh, yeah. I think his dad and hers are business partners. So I guess he approves."

"That's seriously fucked-up," Garrus said.

"I suppose so."

"Jane, are you taking notes?"

Jane quickly closed her notebook and gave him a toothy smile.

"No? Just writing down something I want to tell Liara later on. Oh, by the way! She's coming here for the weekend, I want her to meet my friends. Do you guys wanna go out for pizza on Saturday?"

"Sure."

"I'd love to. Can I bring Kasumi?"

"Of course. You know, so long as she keeps her fingers where I can see them."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Jacob said, looking away. "In any case, she always puts things back."

. . . . .

Jane hummed as she entered the girls' room. Grinned broadly when she saw Miranda checking her reflection in the mirror.

"Hi!" she said pleasantly and started washing her hands, scrubbing the inky little figures off Tali had doodled there during maths.

"You're in a good mood," Miranda said lowly.

Jane looked at her, wondering if she was always that tense.

"I am indeed! My girlfriend's coming to visit this weekend. Long-distance is hard."

"Girlfriend?" Miranda asked, staring at her.

"You don't mind, do you? I figured the president of the student council would be an open, tolerant person."

"Of course I don't mind," Miranda said hastily.

"Good. Being out of the closet is just so liberating. And the other students here are so nice about it. I was worried at first, what with being new and all, but people here are amazingly supportive."

"Good for you," Miranda said through gritted teeth.

"Something wrong?" Jane asked innocently.

"No, no, it's great that everyone loves you."

"Hey." Jane touched her shoulder lightly. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"I am not upset! I need to go, I'm late for class."

Jane frowned after her.

. . . . .

Miranda sat in the library, staring out of the window. She hadn't seen Jack outside of the few classes they shared all week, and she couldn't talk to her in class. She couldn't even catch her eye. It seemed Jack was ignoring her on purpose. Maybe she'd expected Miranda to say something about the coffee beans, but how could she have when Jack didn't show up?

Or maybe she'd seen Jason hanging on her like a shadow.

A handsy shadow.

Like that was her fault.

_It's your life, your choice. Whose fault is it, if not yours?_

And then that Shepard person had made her feel all easy to read and paranoid. There was no way she could know anything. It had been a coincidence. Must have been.


	3. Chapter 3

_I just pictured sort of a young Ali Hillis for human teenage Liara._

* * *

It had been a miserable week and now this. It wasn't enough that she'd caved and agreed to go out with Jason, and now had to endure pointless, self-important drivel. Oh no. They also happened to be sitting only a few tables away from Shepard, her friends, and the cute blond girl who was very obviously her girlfriend. They were disgustingly sweet together, and the entire horde of them appeared to be having a blast.

Unlike Miranda, who had to ward off Jason's attempts to touch her all the time. When he tried to kiss her, she got up and rushed to the toilet, where she locked herself into a stall and sat down, staring at the cubicle wall for minutes.

"Are you alright in there?"

"I'm fine!" she pressed out.

"You've been in there a long time."

Not a voice she recognised.

"I think your date is getting worried."

She groaned.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"I don't even know who you are."

"My name's Liara."

Reluctantly, Miranda got up and opened the door. Only to grimace when she saw who that voice belonged to.

"You're the girlfriend."

Liara laughed.

"I see. News travels fast."

Miranda had never met a person who radiated kindness like that before. The smile Liara gave her made her look away.

"So... your date not going well?"

She couldn't remember the last time she'd cried in front of anyone. Perhaps it was easier to let go in front of a total stranger. She'd felt the tension building all week, wondering vaguely when she'd crumble.

"It's alright."

She should have been embarrassed, but there was something just so very right about crying against the other girl's shoulder. Liara's hands stroked her back and she didn't seem to mind the slightest bit.

"Hey, what are... oh."

Miranda jerked back and wiped at her tears when she heard Jane's voice behind them.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Just gives us a few minutes."

"'kay."

The door closed again and Liara put her hand to Miranda's shoulder.

"What would make things better right now?"

"I just want him gone."

"I can do that."

Miranda watched her leave with a small frown. She moved over to the sinks after a moment and splashed some water on her puffy, red eyes. It didn't help much, but felt pleasant.

Liara returned after a few minutes.

"Done."

"What did you tell him?"

"That you had a female hygiene emergency, didn't want to bother him with the gross consequences and that it would be best if he left you to my care. Frankly, I don't think he heard much after 'female hygiene', but he paid and left pretty quickly."

Miranda's laughter verged on hysterical.

"Oh god, you didn't!"

"I did."

Miranda sighed.

"Thanks. I suppose I'll have to walk home now, though."

"Nonsense. Come sit with us. Jane can drive you home."

"Oh no, I shouldn't..."

"It's alright. None of us bite. Come on, it'll be fun."

"I'm a mess," Miranda muttered.

Liara reached into her handbag and handed her a small box of compact powder.

"Put some of that on, no one will know."

"How much do you charge for problem solving?"

"Give me a smile and we're even. Yes, that's it."

So she squeezed herself between Liara and Jacob, who gave her a kind, albeit slightly confused look. For a brief moment, everyone looked at her, but then they returned to their conversations.

Miranda had expected to feel a lot more awkward, but it was actually quite nice. She did not join in much, but the laughter and talking washed over her in a soothing manner, while she nipped her ice tea.

It was almost midnight when Jane dropped her off in front of her house.  
"Hey. If you need to talk, here's my phone number and email address." Liara pushed a piece of paper into her hand. "I mean it. Anything you need to talk about."

"Thank you," Miranda whispered.

. . . . .

"Do I tell you often enough that I love you? Because I do, so much."

Liara smiled.

"Do you not think this is an odd thing to say, considering that you caught me on a toilet with another girl in my arms?"

"Well, if she hadn't been crying her eyes out..."

"The poor thing. She must be so confused. Look, I know you mean well, but maybe you should stop before you make everything worse."

Jane frowned.

"Isn't she making it way worse for herself? She obviously didn't like the guy, why was she on a date with him?"

"Beats me," Liara muttered. Then she looked over at Jane.

"I love you, too, by the way. Once we get home, I'll show you just how much."

Jane blushed deeply, but grinned.

. . . . .

"You've been out long."

"I'm sorry."

"Had a nice date?"

Miranda stood up a little straighter.

"No. I spent most of the night with friends. I won't be going out with Jason again."

Her heart raced, but it felt so good to just say it the way it was.

"This is very immature of you, Miranda. But I'm sure you'll change your mind in due time."

"I won't."

Her father raised his eyebrows.

"I see."

. . . . .

Miranda sat, once again, in the library. She couldn't afford any weak points right now, so she was working harder than ever.

But as she looked out of the window, she froze.

"No," she whispered. Then she jumped up, without even thinking about it, and rushed out of the library.

. . . . .

It wasn't exactly a fair fight. Jack was fast and she fought dirty, but there were three of them. She should probably have known better than to let herself be baited.

There was no way she could keep an eye on all of them at once. Two was fine, but three...

She managed not to cry out as her legs were kicked out from under her and she crashed to the ground. She rolled off fast enough to avoid another kick, tried to get to her legs, but was shoved down again. She had their back towards them now, a bad position, and for a moment, she didn't notice something was going on. Then she managed to turn and cursed as she realised she had very unexpected help.  
And boy, could the princess fight. She was all precise kicks and flying fists. While her attackers were utterly distracted, Jack got to her legs again, and managed to overwhelm one of them.

And when the insufferable redhead came running towards them as well, those fuckers just scurried off.

Jack turned to Miranda, beaming.

"Fuck, you were awesome!"

But she lost the smile at the expression that greeted her.

"Are you insane? Are you entirely out of your mind? What were you even thinking? Did you want to get yourself killed? You are impossible!"

And before she could even say anything in reply, Miranda had stormed off.

"Hey, are you alright?"

"What's it to you?" Jack snarled. Her mood had gone from delighted to abysmal in mere seconds.

"Shit, you're bleeding. Come on, you don't have to pretend you're tough right now. Let's get you cleaned up."

"Mind your own fucking business!" Jack replied, and wiped at the trickle of blood running from her lower lip.

"You've fallen hard, haven't you?"

"Nah, that's where that bastard hit me the first time..."

"I mean for Miranda."

Jack froze.

"Fuck off before I forget myself."

"She likes you too, you know?"

Jane easily avoided the blow. It seemed half-hearted, anyway.

"Well, maybe I was wrong. Maybe you don't care after all," she said with a shrug, watching Jack glare at her, all tension, hands balled into fists.

"Maybe I should just leave and not tell you how Miranda hid from her date in a toilet and cried in my girlfriend's arms last Saturday night."

That did the trick quite nicely, Jane thought. Jack's expression grew confused, then guarded, then she seemed to relent. Looked away, pushed her hands into the pockets of her trousers.

"Fuck you," she said softly. "But alright. You've got me there."

"Now will you come with so we can get you cleaned up?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Nope!" Jane said cheerfully.

Jack trudged along beside her, cursing her in her head.

"Where are we going?"

"My place. It's just around the corner."

Jack stopped.

"There aren't going to be any parents, are there? Because parents do not, as a rule, like me."

"My mom's at work, but she'd be cool with you. I suppose."

It was a nice place, small and a little untidy, but something about it was just cosy and spoke of family life and care. Jack suddenly felt a slight, but acute pang of loss.

Jane dragged her into a tiny bathroom, sat her down on the lid of the toilet and had the cloth she'd wanted to clean Jack's face with snatched from her.

"I can do that myself!"

"Course you can," Jane said pleasantly.

"I'm here, aren't I? Now tell me."

Jack allowed her to dab at her lip with disinfectant.

"What do you know about Miranda?"

"She has a tight schedule."

What did Jack know? Nothing material. That there was a sweet, sharp, lonely girl hiding behind a tightly controlled, stand-offish persona. With beautiful blue eyes that widened quite promisingly when you tried to flirt with her.

Jane frowned at her.

"I know nothing, really."

"Love at first sight, huh?"

"Shut up. Aren't you new, too? What do you know about her?"

"Unlike you, I have friends."

"Yeah, fuck you, too."

"You realise you're covered in mud, do you? Want some of my clothes? I can wash yours."

Jack looked down her body.

"Huh," she muttered. Grimaced at the sight of a deep tear in her trousers, at the knee. She sighed.

"Why are you being so awfully nice? I'm not going to put out for you, you know?"

Jane snorted.

"Don't flatter yourself. You're not my type." Then she shrugged. "I have a hard time not involving myself in other people's business. I don't watch much TV."

Jack's eyes narrowed.

"So this is entertainment for you?"

"Come on, birdie, strip. I'll get you clean clothes that might just not drop off you."

"Don't ever call me that again!" Jack yelled after her.

When Jane returned, Jack was still fully clothed.

"Shy, are we? Here, I'll leave for the moment."

Jack changed quickly, trying not to catch too much of herself in the mirror as she did so. The other girl's clothes, a simple black tee and a pair of jeans, felt and looked odd on her, the jeans being too long, as well, but part of her appreciated the gesture. She left the bathroom, followed the sound of tuneless humming into the kitchen.

"You want a sandwich?"

"What are you playing at? Just tell me already."

Jane realized she'd pushed the other girl to her limits.

"Alright. It appears your crush has daddy issues. Big ones. He basically appears to be dictating her life. What she does, who she hangs out with – who she's dating..."

Jack frowned.

"That's sick."

"I thought so. In any case, she was at that pizza place with that twerp Jason, and we were there, too, and at some point she just raced off to the toilet and didn't come out anymore. He was so pissed-off. Liara went in to see if she was alright, because she does girl things just so much better than me..."

"Who?" Jack asked quizzically.

"My girlfriend. Anyway, then she was gone, too, and I went after them after a while and she was crying all over my girlfriend. And then Liara told Jason that Miranda had female troubles and the look on his face, oh, it was glorious. He vanished and your little crush sat with us for the rest of the night."

"So she doesn't like him..."

Jack bit her nails.

"Doesn't mean she likes me."

"I saw her unpack your little present in the library. Believe me, she likes you."

"What?!"

"Hey, if you want things to be secret, don't do them in public."

Jack glared at her. Jane requited it with a cool look of her own.

"Now, what do you want on that sandwich?"

Reluctantly, Jack sat down at the kitchen table.

"What do you have?"


	4. Chapter 4

Her clothes were dirty, a button torn from her blouse, and she already sported a bruise on her left upper arm. The bruise she could hide, but everything else would be noticed.

For a moment Miranda hoped to be able to sneak up the stairs and change without her father noticing, but he was already waiting for her. She was late, too.

"What on earth have you done?" he asked coldly.

She wondered if he shouldn't at least be a little concerned, but he'd been very displeased with her ever since Saturday.

"I helped someone in a fight," she said defensively.

"You what?"

"She was attacked by three guys, should I not have done anything?"

"You could have alarmed someone, gotten help. Seriously, I expect better of you. Henry Lawson's daughter does not get into fights. Those self-defense lessons were so you could defend yourself, not join in a brawl."

"I defended someone else! But that's all I'm ever going to be, right? Henry Lawson's daughter? The little puppet you can order around, mold into whatever shape you think she ought to take? Well, that's not going to happen! I'm sick of it!"

"You ungrateful little brat! Do you have any idea how lucky you are? Don't you have everything?"

"Nothing is really mine. It's all yours to give or deny or force upon me. And I can't take it anymore."

She wasn't even angry anymore, just so tired.

"Fine, be like that. You'll see where that attitude gets you."

That tone used to make her cringe, but now she simply shrugged and made her way up the stairs.

. . . . .

"Hey there."

"Liara told you to check up on me?"

"You're sitting alone during lunch. I was afraid the universe might implode."

Miranda raised an eyebrow.

"And Liara told me to check up on you."

"Your girlfriend is very sweet. You're lucky."

Jane smiled.

"I know. So, how are you? She didn't tell me much, just that you had a fight at home."

Miranda leant back and huffed.

"I'll manage."

"What about Jack?"

Miranda's eyes narrowed.

"What about her? What does she have to do with anything?"

Jane leant forward, propped her head up on her hands and just looked at her over the table.

"You are such a busybody. It's none of your business." Miranda looked away. "She's trouble. I have enough of that already. I don't even know what her... her thing is. The shit she does, I don't understand her..."

"Maybe you should just ask her. I'm sure she'd like that."

Miranda bit her lip.

"I have her number," Jane said with a smile.

"How?"

"I took her home with me after her fight. She was bleeding, after all. She's not as much of a loner as she pretends to be."

"Why do you involve yourself in all this?"

Jane frowned.

"Maybe because you can't seem to figure things out on your own? What would you have done if we hadn't been around Saturday? Would you have hidden in that toilet for the rest of the night? Would you have come out again, pretended nothing had happened, continued your date?"

Miranda glared at her, but couldn't exactly argue with that.

"It's one thing to help me out of a... a situation," she said eventually. "It's another thing entirely to tell me what to do. I get enough of that at home."

"Fine," Jane said softly. "Tell me you don't like her, and I'll leave you alone."

It would have been such an easy lie. She opened her mouth, then shut it again.

"Just give me that number."

. . . . .

It was a strange café. 'Alternative'. Miranda felt absolutely uncomfortable. There was even a stage. God, could this place be any more clichéd? Why had she agreed to this? If she saw someone wearing a black beret, she'd start ticking off stereotypes on a list. And people gave her odd looks. Sneers. She sat down quickly at an empty table near the entrance and pretended not to notice.

"What can I get you?"

She stared at her.

"I didn't realise you worked here..."

Jack grimaced.

"I didn't want to be working anymore when you got here, but the guy who has the shift after me is late. Again. Sorry."

"No, it's alright. Uhm. Just a coffee, please."

"I'll be right back."

Miranda watched her with a small frown as she made her way behind the counter, smiled as she talked to the other waitress and started on her order. For once Jack didn't look out of place. It showed in the way she moved, the way she smiled. More carefree. She was even more beautiful than usual, being this relaxed.

"Hi there, mind if I join you?"

Jack looked daggers at the scene at the far end of the room, wishing the damn machine would hurry up. Frankie of all people had sat down next to Miranda and was trying to chat her up. Goddamn player. And why was Bastian not here yet? This was all wrong.

"Go to her, I can handle things alone for the next few minutes."

Jack turned around and gave Sue her most grateful smile, then took the cappuccino and rushed over to Miranda's table.

"There you are."

She sat down, too, and smiled dangerously.

"Look, Frankie. Miri here can handle herself without a doubt, only two days ago I saw her beat up two guys. But at the moment she's too nice to tell you to fuck off. But she really wants to, since you've sat down she's been edging away from you inch by inch. So get lost, 'kay?"

Frankie just laughed.

"I didn't know you were this territorial, Jack. Alright, I'll back off. See you around." He had the audacity to wink at Miranda and Jack flipped him off.

"Nice talking for me," Miranda grumbled.

"You were moving away from him, looking positively alarmed." Jack ran her hand over her face.

"Look, this is all wrong. I'm sorry. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Miranda shook her head.

"It's alright. Just feeling like I've grown a third eye, the way people are looking at me."

"They look at you because you're beautiful. Perhaps a little out of place, but mostly beautiful."

"Jack..."

"Just listen to me for a moment. Please? About the fight..." She rubbed her forehead. "I shouldn't have let myself be baited. They kept calling me trash and I... It was very decent of you to help me. Where did you learn to fight like that?"

"Years of self-defense lessons."

"You were amazing. You didn't hurt anything, did you? You were gone so fast."

"A bruise on my arm. Bit of dirt on my clothes. Jane said you were bleeding?"

Jack shrugged.

"Just my lip. Heals fast."

They looked at each other for a moment, then Miranda quickly reached for the cup and took a sip.

"So, uhm, you work here?"

Miranda cursed herself for the inane question. Of course she worked here.

"Yeah, fifteen hours a week."

"Wow."

"Mostly weekends."

"I see."

"Oh, there he is! Excuse me for a moment."

Jack jumped up and made her way back behind the counter, threw her apron at the young man who'd just entered and who was gesticulating with a vaguely guilty look on his face.

"So! I'm done. You want to go for a walk when you've finished that coffee? It's on me, by the way. For saving my ass. Also, I get free coffee."

"Thanks." Miranda smiled. "Sure, let's go for a walk."

They walked through the park in silence for a while, then Jack asked lowly:

"I've heard you're not seeing that guy anymore?"

Miranda stopped dead, staring into space for a moment.

"Uhm? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just imagining all the ways I could kill Jane Shepard."

Jack laughed.

"Yeah, I do that, too! That's always fun."

"Anyway," Miranda muttered. "I wasn't really... interested. Just, uhm, doing my dad a favour. Thing. Said I'd give it a shot. It's complicated." She stared at her feet.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"No, it's alright. It's just that right now it's kind of... there are a few kinds of mythology where hell isn't full of fire, but ice. That's how it's like at home, at the moment."

"Because you dumped that guy?"

"No, we had a fight that was more like... about everything."

"What about your mom?"

Miranda shrugged.

"Never knew her."

She looked up at Jack.

"What about your parents?"

"No idea. I grew up in a variety of foster homes."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, it sucked. But I have my own place now. Well, I have a room in a flat I share with two others. It's a project kind of thing..."

"Now I feel really bad for complaining," Miranda muttered.

"Don't. Your dad doesn't sound easy to handle."

"Yeah... I don't know, it was alright as long as it was about grades and achievements, but I don't want him to make all my decisions for me. God, I really don't want to go home again. He has a way of making me feel so... inadequate."

Jack looked up.

"I think it's starting to rain."

"Great." Miranda sighed.

"You, uhm, wanna come home with me?" Jack asked quickly. "We can have pizza and watch TV and be inadequate together."

The smile spreading on Miranda's lips caused a flutter in Jack's stomach.

"I'd like that."

By the time they'd arrived at the apartment building, the slow drizzle had turned into a proper downpour, and they were soaked even though they'd run the last five minutes.

It was a nice place, Miranda thought, not the way she'd imagined. The colourful, mismatched furniture and bright walls plastered in posters and postcards were a nice change to the dark, stern interior she was used to. Jack watched her nervously as she looked around, and Miranda smiled at her.

"It looks great."

Jack handed her a towel and Miranda started drying her hair off.

"Do you want a shirt or something?"

"No, it's warm enough, I'll dry."

"Alright. You just sit down here for a moment," Jack pointed to a checkered couch in a corner of the kitchen, "and give me five minutes to tidy up my room."

"You don't have to..."

"You have no idea. It's alright, I'll just stuff everything into the wardrobe, anyway."

Miranda smiled and let herself fall onto the couch.

"Alright then."

She was staring at the raindrops running down the window pane, lost in thought, when a dreamy voice said:

"Hi there?"

Miranda turned and looked at a small blond girl in a purple dress, who wore a slightly dazed expression.

"Oh, hi. I'm Miranda. I'm a, uhm, friend of Jack's."

The girl's eyebrows vanished behind her bangs as her eyes grew very round.

"Really? Jack's never brought a friend before." Then she smiled. "Good for her. I'm Liz."

"Hey Liz!" Jack came back and dumped a bunch of boxes in a trash can. "You alright?"

"Yeah, really good. It's a nice day. I met your friend. She's very pretty."

Miranda blinked and Jack chuckled.

"That she is. Will you be around for dinner?"

Liz shook her head vigorously.

"I'm going to a concert tonight." She beamed.

"Have fun, and take care of yourself."

"You have fun, too!"

"You coming?" Jack said to Miranda.

"Sure."

Jack's room was still a little messy, odds and ends everywhere, but Miranda just stared at the walls.

"Did you do that?"

"Yeah. I don't usually bring anyone, so no one sees that..."

"It's amazing."

The walls were covered in red and black drawings, most of them abstract, lines and swirls, but inbetween there were faces, words, lines from poems, literary quotations, plants, animals, shadowy figures. For a few minutes, Miranda just went from one side of the room to the next, exploring.

"I'll have to repaint when I move out."

"That would be a crime!"

Miranda turned to her.

"You've such talent. Do you want to go to art school?"

Jack shrugged.

"Maybe. Do you want something to drink?"

"No, I'm good."

"Okay. Well, make yourself comfortable."

Miranda sat down on a small, threadbare couch and Jack sat down next to her. Awkwardly.

"Your roommate is... nice."

"She wasn't high, if that's what you're thinking. She's always like that. It drove me insane at first, but now I think it's cute. She doesn't have a single mean bone in her body."

Miranda looked at her, then reached out and brushed a loose strand of hair out of Jack's eyes. Kept her hand on the side of Jack's head, stroked along the slight stubble above her ear.

"You're not what I expected. Not at all."

"Oh? Is that good or bad?" Jack all but whispered.

"I don't know yet. But I want to find out. I want to..." Her hand moved to Jack's neck and Jack let herself be pulled closer. "...find out..."

Jack's lips were just as soft as they looked, brushing against Miranda's in a light touch that sent sparks through her entire body. She'd never felt like this before. Jack nipped at her lower lip and Miranda moved closer, flicked her tongue over Jack's lips in turn. They parted for her at once, and Miranda let the tip of her tongue slip between them, teased Jack's tongue, before retreating. Jack smiled against her lips and let her tongue chase after Miranda's, deepened the kiss, tongues exploring one another tenderly. They broke apart after a long, sweet moment, noses rubbing against each other briefly. Jack looked at her, and Miranda gave her a shaky smile.

"I've wanted to do this, very badly, since that day we first met in the library."

Jack raised her eyebrows.

"Did you?"

"You were so beautiful up close. It took my breath away."

"And here I thought I was the one seducing you." Jack's fingers stroked Miranda's neck, watched with a smile as she shivered ever so slightly.

"I've never been with another girl before," Miranda admitted.

"Does it bother you? Being with a girl, I mean."

Miranda averted her eyes, but smiled broadly, whispering:

"I've never been so turned on by anything. I didn't know I could feel like that."

Jack put her fingers below Miranda's chin and tilted her head up lightly, kissed her again, before saying:

"You do know how to compliment a girl."


	5. Chapter 5

"Do you, uhm, I don't know, want to stay the night or something?"

Miranda looked up at Jack from the last piece of pizza, then over to Jack's bed, blushing a little at the idea.

"My father would be so angry."

"Is that a yes?" Jack asked hopefully.

Miranda grinned.

"It is tempting. But I really shouldn't. I'm already in trouble. He has no idea where I am. Might call the police. Sleepovers aren't something I usually do. Actually, I have hardly ever stayed over night at a friend's. Not in a long time, at least."

"Why not?"

Miranda frowned.

"I guess I just don't have that many close friends. Other girls don't seem to like me all that much, now that I think about it. It was just not as blatantly obvious when I was younger."

"Well, I'm not a friend. I'm that girl you were making out with all evening. The girl you licked pizza off of."

Miranda blushed a little, heart beating hard.

"That means we can't be friends?" she asked, trying to tease, but it came out way too serious.

Jack shrugged, looking uncomfortable.

"Dunno if we can. I've an impressive record of failed relationships of all kinds."

"Why? You're mostly perfectly sweet to me. Most of the time."

"I don't know. It's complicated."

"Everything's always complicated these days, isn't it?"

Jack grimaced. Then she said:

"I know. It's a word people use when they don't wanna explain shit. It's usually not complicated. Not even complex. Just messed-up and painful, but 'complicated' adds a bit of mystery. It's probably usually really simple..."

"But you don't wanna talk about it?"

Jack shrugged.

"No, probably not."

"I think I should go home."

Miranda got up and Jack followed her to the door.

"You're angry now."

Miranda turned to look at her, frowned, then shook her head.

"I am not. It's just... I wish I understood you."

"Yeah, welcome to my life."

Miranda rolled her eyes, but reached out and put her hand to Jack's shoulder, not quite sure what she meant to do. Jack sighed and took a step forward, leant against her.

"Bye," she muttered into Miranda's hair.

"Bye."

As she'd expected, her father was angry, but silent. Just gave her a cold, reproachful glare, then turned away from Miranda. It was pretty bad, the tension so heavy the entire Sunday that she barely left her room. Played her violin to fill the silence, Pachelbel's canon in D, mainly because she knew it annoyed him, he thought it was too easy. It was a far cry from Nielsen's ambivalent modernism, or even Bach's violin pieces, but she needed something she could play without thinking about it, something with an easy flow. Soothing and hopeful, with just a little longing in it.

She had never wanted Monday to come that badly. She'd written and not sent half a dozen messages to Jack, called Liara, just to hang up after two minutes of not actually knowing what she wanted to talk about, leaving Liara bemused. She'd probably have to face more prying Jane Shepard because of that. Though she had to admit, albeit reluctantly, that the girl wasn't all nuisance.

She fell asleep that night thinking about Jack, woke up every few hours, and was cranky and tired when she went to school.

Jack didn't like being this nervous, or feeling out of her depth like this. She did strange things around Miranda. Like just let her guard down. Felt the need to disclose too much. Which was just plain stupid, she still barely knew her.

She was a pretty good kisser, though. That was probably the reason why they hadn't talked all that much.

Jack didn't see her at all until lunch, where she sat, surprise surprise, not with the crème de la crème, but with Jane Shepard. It was definitely an improvement. At least it wouldn't cause a huge commotion if she sat down there, too. And she had actually remembered to bring Shepard's jeans and sweater.

"Hey, Shepard, I brought you your shit back!"

She shoved a bag into the other girl's arms, then slumped down next to her, opposite Miranda, who glanced at her, then gave her a furtive smile before looking back down at her lunch.

"Washed it, too."

"A pleasant day to you, too," Jane said. "I hope you had a nice, relaxing weekend?"

Even out of the corner of her eye, Jack could see Miranda blush.

"Gee, what did you do to my jeans?"

"Oh, that. Sorry. I left them in the machine for too long, and I don't have an iron. But then, even if I did, I wouldn't have ironed your jeans, that's really just the most tedious and pointless activity on the planet."

"She's such a catch, Miranda," Jane muttered, and Jack punched her arm, while Miranda hissed:

"Keep it quiet!"

And that felt like a punch in the stomach, somehow. Really, it wasn't like she had expected Miranda to trumpet her undying love for her, but that reaction still sucked.

"Oh, screw it. I need a smoke."

Jack jumped up again and stormed out.

Miranda watched Jack run off, then huffed.

"Great, Jane. Are you happy now?"

"Ugh, can't you two work things out like normal people? What's with the dramatic running away all the time?"

"There is no such thing as normal people, especially around here," Miranda muttered.

"Don't you wanna go after her?"

"Look, you've involved yourself in this enough. From here on in, this is none of your business until one of us asks for your opinion or help, or whatever. Because you're not in this... thing we're having."

"It might help if you called it a relationship."

Miranda glared at her, then packed her stuff and got up.

"What are you doing?" Jane asked casually.

"Walking away from you," Miranda said irritably, then went after Jack.

She was, as Miranda had expected, right outside the school perimeter, dragging on a cigarette with a surly look about her.

"Jack, I..."

Jack just shook her head.

"It's fine. No one wants Jane Shepard blaring about their love lives, much less outing them in public," she said with a shrug.

"This is new, and strange, but I didn't want it to come across like I'm embarrassed by you. I am not."

"Okay."

She didn't sound convinced.

"Do you want to hang out some more? I'm kind of busy today, and tomorrow, too, but maybe Wednesday?"

"Yeah," Jack said lowly. "Okay."

"Can I come over again?"

Jack nodded, looking a little less surly.

"How are things at home?" she asked after a moment.

"Icy, but you get used to it."

"Really?"

Miranda closed her eyes.

"No, it sucks."

"But you're still on your tight schedule, then?"

She dropped the cigarette and crushed it into the dirt.

"I took on responsibilities, I can't just give up on everything now."

"Do you think I'll fit in there?"

Miranda couldn't quite interpret Jack's tone of voice.

"I'll make room for you."

"I'm so honored."

They stood there quite awkwardly, until Miranda finally said:

"I think it's time for class."

"Yeah."

She didn't even pretend to listen to her math teacher. She found herself doodling a large J into her notes and stopped herself quickly, but didn't manage to get Jack's eyes out of her head, and the way they had looked at her the moment she'd told Jane to keep it quiet. She could of course always blame Jane for not knowing when to keep her big mouth shut, but it had been Miranda's words that had hurt Jack. And Miranda kept telling herself she couldn't care less if people knew, but deep down inside she was aware that it was a lie. And she was fairly certain that Jack knew that, too.  
But she wanted to be that girl who didn't care. She really did.

On Wednesday, however, Jack was all bravado and cocky smiles, and while Miranda was slightly confused by the change, she really didn't want to question it.

"I like being here," she said, as she sat down on Jack's couch, mostly for lack of anything else to say. "Your place is nice."

She meant it, in any case. But then, every place seemed preferable to home right now.

"Yeah, I actually cleaned."

Miranda laughed.

"That's not what I meant. Although I'm flattered. But it's like... it's cosy. And you."

Jack raised her eyebrows.

"Your place isn't you? I kinda wanna see your place, too. Is it a palace? Is your room all ballerinas and like, tasteful artsy stuff?"

"Why on earth would I like ballerinas?" Miranda asked, making a mental note to remove the Degas print if Jack ever came around.

Jack shrugged.

"Just a guess? Do you have a pony?"

"Oh, shut up and kiss me already."

Miranda blushed at her own words, but Jack grinned and didn't need any more incentive.

They were lying on the couch soon enough, Jack half atop her, one hand stroking Miranda's breasts through her shirt. Which felt surprisingly good, considering this was usually the place guys groped first, and it had never really done much for Miranda. But then, it wasn't just the touch. It was really more the fact that it was Jack's touch.

"Are you okay?"

"What?"

"You kind of spaced out there for a moment." Jack looked down at her.

"I..." Miranda blinked, feeling a little embarrassed. "I just had a totally philosophical thought that the quality of the touch mainly depends on who's doing the touching," she muttered.

Jack raised her eyebrows with a crooked smile.

"And your conclusion regarding our current situation?"

"High quality. Definitely."

Jack bent down again to kiss her, but then stopped herself with a frown.

"What is it?"

"I actually thought we might talk a little today, I just forgot."

"Talk?" Miranda gave her a frown. "Why?"

For some reason, that made Jack laugh.

"I don't actually know anything about you."

"I like making out with you, isn't that an interesting fact?"

But Jack just gave her a very serious look, and Miranda gave a small shrug.

"Fine, what do you want to know?"

"Whatever you want to tell me. Dunno. Small things."

"The pony's name was Shooting Star, but I didn't really have enough time for her, so we had to give her away."

"I am not even surprised."

Miranda huffed.

"Poor little rich girl, I know. This would be easier if you just asked me about things."

Jack thought for a moment.

"What would you do if you did have the time to just do whatever you wanted?"

"I am here right now, aren't I?"

"That's just evading the question."

Miranda looked away, then shrugged.

"I honestly don't know. I mean, I like what I'm doing, most of the time, but it can get too much and then I just hate it all. And sometimes I just can't tell if I actually like something or if it's just something my father wants me to like, and that scares me. Dammit, that is really not the kind of thing you're interested in hearing, is it?"

"Has anyone ever told your dad he's an ass?"

Miranda smiled a little at that.

"I don't think so. No, wait. His last girlfriend probably did."

She was silent for a moment, gave Jack a long look, then said lowly:

"I have a half-sister. She's just a baby. I never see her. I'd like to. Her name is Oriana. There, that's really something I don't usually tell anyone. Now tell me something about you, quid pro quo."

"Hmm, okay, Clarice. Something in particular that you want to know?"

"What's wrong with 'Jennifer'?"

Jack clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes.

"Everything is wrong with 'Jennifer'."

"Why?"

She shook her head.

"She was a little kid nobody liked and nobody wanted, and she was unhappy all the time, and on top of it all it's just a stupid name. A really stupid name."

"Sounds fairly dissociative."

"Please don't give me any psychobabble. I've had my fair share of that. I just feel more like Jack, alright?"

"You know, I don't think this talking thing is working out for us at all," Miranda muttered.

Jack snorted slightly at that.

"You can be funny, you know that? I was just being an ass when I said it wasn't an attractive quality. It is."

Miranda reached out to stroke Jack's cheek lightly.

"Thanks. I don't think anyone before ever thought I was funny."

"Okay, we're done with the talking."

"Thank goodness," Miranda managed to get out before Jack's lips were pressed against hers once more.


	6. Chapter 6

Miranda's hands below her top were all tentative, but determined, sneaking up her sides and lightly, so very lightly cupping Jack's breasts.

"That's a high quality touch, too," Jack muttered softly against her lips.

"Oh, good."

Miranda smiled.

"How about this?"

Jack's fingers crept below Miranda's skirt, slowly tracing a line from Miranda's knee to the inside of her thigh, marveling at how soft she was.

"That is... a bold touch," Miranda whispered.

"Too bold?" Jack asked, letting her hand rest there, even though she really wanted to continue its quest.

"I, well..." Miranda bit her lip. "It's just that I've never..."

Jack's eyes widened.

"Oh. Oh."

"And that's just a little too fast."

Jack let her hand trace the same line back to Miranda's knee.

"I didn't think... I wasn't expecting that at all. You were so enthusiastic."

"Sorry."

"Fuck, don't say you're sorry," Jack said quickly. "Nothing to feel sorry about, okay?"

"It's just... I want to, but not right now."

"There's no rush. Really." Jack pulled her close and kissed her cheek, wondering where Miranda's sudden timidity came from. She'd thought if anyone could easily and uncompromisingly have said what she wanted, it was Miranda.

"What are you thinking about?" Miranda asked after a moment.

"Dinner! I'm hungry."

Miranda gave her a skeptical look, but then said:

"Me, too, actually."

"I can cook for us."

Miranda raised her eyebrows.

"I honestly didn't expect that."

"Born out of necessity. If you don't want to eat microwaveable shit all the time. Nothing too fancy, though. I take it you can't cook, then?"

"I'd probably burn water."

"Do you have a maid?"

"What do you think?" Miranda replied, a hint of defensiveness in her voice.

"Must be nice."

"I'd actually prefer being able to do these things myself."

"Well, watch and learn," Jack said with a cocky grin.

. . . . .

"You know," Miranda said in between bites, "You could come over this weekend. If you're really interested in seeing my place."

Jack's stir-fry was remarkably good, albeit a little too hot.

"Your dad won't eat me alive?"

Miranda sighed and let her fork sink again.

"He might try."

"Well, let him try," Jack replied belligerently.

Miranda smiled a little at that, but then looked rather anxious.

"He has driven away a lot people he didn't like."

"And he's not going to like me."

It wasn't even a question.

"But I don't care!" Miranda said fiercely. "I like you. That's what matters."

Jack looked at her, silently, not quite able to still the voice inside her that was wondering who Miranda was trying to convince.

. . . . .

"So this is it?"

Jack looked around. She'd met a nervous-looking Miranda on the edge of a park, in a part of town that made her feel preemptively defensive. It was too green, too clean and too well-kept, and the houses were way too big and spaced too far apart. And there were security guards pacing the streets, for fuck's sake, staring at her warily, even as she was walking beside Miranda towards one of the villa-like houses.

"This is it."

"Big."

"Hmm."

"Your dad's home?"

"Yeah."

"Did you tell him I was coming?"

"I said I was bringing someone."

"Huh."

He was not the mustache-twirling villain Jack had imagined, mostly for her entertainment. He actually looked much younger than she'd expected. But she didn't like him at all. Okay, of course she didn't like him, she had been very predisposed not to like him, but he was the smooth, arrogant business man type that made her skin crawl. And he looked at her like she was somehow both nasty and vaguely amusing. And he had Miranda's eyes, which was disturbing. Just that his were colder. Much colder.

"So that's your friend." And he could turn an innocuous sentence into the most condescending of sneers.

"This is Jack," Miranda said lowly.

"Jack?"

"Yes, Jack," Jack replied, too loudly. "It's short for Jack."

"Interesting company you keep these days, Miranda."

With that he turned and walked away. Miranda squared her jaw, then took Jack's hand, quickly, and pulled her up the stairs.

"Are you okay?" Jack asked.

"I'm fine. Actually, that was really rather good, considering."

She frowned as she said it, then took a deep breath.

Jack looked around, then made her way through Miranda's room. It was oddly clinical. White walls, black and white furniture, everything in perfect order. There were a few delicate touches. Heavy white drapes with a silken sheen and orchids on the window sills. Jack didn't like them. Orchids were flowers that somehow looked inherently fake. There were neat rows of books (ordered alphabetically, by author), but the thing that stood out most was the violin. Jack didn't know shit about instruments, but she was sure it was expensive, and she really wanted Miranda to play it. Wanted to watch and take a few sketches. She really wanted to paint Miranda.

"No ballerinas," Miranda said and Jack turned to her again, gave her a crooked smile.

"I bet you hid them all."

She could swear Miranda blushed at that.

Jack let herself fall onto the black leather couch and looked up at her.

"What do you think?" Miranda asked, motioning towards the room at large.

"Do you have secrets hidden away in the drawers and wardrobe?"

Miranda frowned at her.

"I don't think anything in there qualifies as a secret. The one or other fashion mistake perhaps. Why?"

"Well, after what you said on Wednesday, I was wondering whether your place is like you. And on the outside it is. A little. You know... shit, I don't know how to explain it. Immaculate, but not giving away much. But that's just the surface."

Miranda gave her an odd look, and Jack shrugged.

"Deep thoughts," she said with a wry grin.

"I am not immaculate."

Jack couldn't help but snort.

"That was supposed to be my point. You're not. And I wouldn't want you to be. You're deeper than that."

Miranda looked to the floor, shook her head, then walked over and sat down beside Jack, leant against her, her head on Jack's shoulder, lips brushing her neck lightly. Jack shivered and dug her fingers into Miranda's hair.

"Your dad's not going to come bursting in here, is he?"

"Unlikely," Miranda muttered.

Before Jack could stop herself, she said what had been nagging at her for a while now:

"Is this all just an act of defiance?"

Miranda let go of her and sat up straight.

"What?"

Jack averted her eyes, then asked:

"Are you doing all this just to piss off your dad?"

Miranda stared at her.

"Why would you think that?"

She sounded really hurt, and Jack looked up.

"Well, am I?"

"Of course not! Do you really think I could be that shallow and petty?"

Jack rubbed her forehead, feeling like an idiot.

"No, I... Sorry I asked, okay?"

She knew it wasn't okay, Miranda's lips were pressed together tightly, brow furrowed.

"It has actually taken me a lot of guts to invite you here," she said coldly after another moment of tense silence.

Jack recoiled.

"I'm a fucking idiot."

"Yes, you are. Not everything I do is motivated by him. Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit!"

She glared at Jack, who closed her eyes and said quickly:

"I've never done this before, okay? Never dated. Just screwed around and... I had to ask. Because this is getting kind of serious. I think. Is it?"

"Enough to hurt," Miranda muttered, arms folded in front of her chest, but she didn't look as angry as a moment ago.

"If you want me to leave..."

"No, don't. Don't run off. I want you here. I just can't stand the idea that you could think I'd use you like that. That I could be this calculating. I'm not like that!"

For a moment she looked like she was about to cry and that made Jack want to bolt. But instead, she reached out tentatively and put her hand onto Miranda's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't want to imply any of that. I didn't think."

"It's okay. I... Do you want something to drink?" she asked suddenly, moving away from Jack, who let her hand sink again.

Under different circumstances, Jack would have asked where the maid was, but so she just shrugged.

Miranda got to her feet.

"I'll see what we have."

Miranda closed the door behind herself, then just stood there for a moment, her stomach in knots, before quietly making her way down into the kitchen.

"That was well played, Miranda, I'll give you that."

She gave a start, then turned to glared at her father.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. You can't really expect me to believe you're going out with that aspiring juvenile delinquent." He raised an eyebrow. "Did you pay her?"

Miranda felt like vomiting.

"I really like her," she said lowly.

"Who are you trying to kid, Miranda?"

She took a deep breath, then replied:

"It doesn't matter if you believe me or not. I couldn't care less."

With that she just turned on her heels and raced back up the stairs.

Jack was still sitting on her couch, still looking crestfallen.

"No drinks?" She frowned. "Something wrong?"

"No drinks," Miranda replied quietly, absent-mindedly, trying to stop her hands from shaking. Then she crossed the room in a few strides and bent down to kiss Jack, who was too surprised to react for a split second, but then pulled Miranda onto her lap and requited the kiss enthusiastically.

"What made me earn your pardon?" she asked after a moment.

Miranda put her finger to Jack's lips.

"Let's just not talk right now, okay? I can't."

There was a hitch in her voice she hated.

Jack looked at her, those beautiful eyes unfathomable, then she shrugged and gave a small nod. Miranda felt bad for cutting her off, for not being able to put her confused thoughts into words, but she'd been this close to tears, and she was afraid of falling apart entirely. Neither of them would be able to deal with that.

And Jack didn't trust her. Not really. That realization had stung. But it was also clear, even though she didn't yet know why, that Jack didn't trust easily. Even less so than Miranda herself. So she'd have to be patient. She could do that, couldn't she? She'd been patient much of her life. And nothing before had ever felt that important.

Her fingertips traced a line to Jack's cheekbone, cupped her cheek lightly, then she brushed her lips over Jack's eyebrows, the tip of her nose, then over those soft, full lips that parted for her tongue at once.

If Jack minded having been silenced, she didn't let it on.


	7. Chapter 7

"So, did your dad say anything about me?" Jack's leg brushed against Miranda's under the table, and that was the only reason Miranda didn't grimace at the question.

"Yeah, he said I can't bring you home with me again."

He'd said it in more and much harsher words than that, but Miranda would rather bite off her tongue than repeat them to Jack.

Jack just shrugged and let her fingers trace small circles over Miranda's knee.

"Not really a surprise. So my place?"

Miranda wanted to reply, when she saw a familiar figure approaching.

"Look who it is."

"Ugh."

"Go away, Jane."

"Come on, lovebirds, don't be like that."

Miranda looked up at her.

"What do you want?"

"I want to invite you two to my birthday party. Next Saturday."

"Why?" Jack asked.

"Because it's my birthday on Thursday. Birthday... Thursday... I should be a poet."

"Why invite us?" Miranda clarified impatiently.

Jane rolled her eyes.

"Because I'm afraid there won't be enough drama without you? I'm expecting a big scene, shouting, tears, melodrama, someone storming off, doesn't matter who, you both do that so well."

"Does that sound like fun to you, Jack?"

"Nope."

"We decline, thanks for asking."

"It's 'we' now, is it?" Jane grinned. "Come on, it'll be fun. Free food, socializing? Liara will be coming, too, she'd really like to see you, Miranda, and she'd love to meet Jack. Just think about it."

She gave them a winsome smile, before turning away and walking off, skipping a little as she did so.

"How can anyone be so disgustingly cheerful all the time?"

"No idea."

"Do you want to go?"

Miranda shrugged.

"It would be nice to see Liara again."

Jack raised an eyebrow.

"What? She's really sweet. Don't look at me like that, I don't mean it in that way. Just as a friend."

"I hate her already."

"You really don't want to go?"

Jack huffed.

"It's not like I'll have something else planned if you're going."

"We can always leave should it suck."

"Right. Fine. Whatever."

. . . . .

It was pretty much just as bad as Jack had expected. She felt uncomfortable and out of place among Jane's friends, even though she had to admit, grudgingly, that Liara was indeed hard to dislike. Her attempts at engaging Jack in conversation were enthusiastic, and she just smiled whenever Jack gave her gruff, monosyllabic answers.

Miranda looked great, though. Jack found it hard to keep her eyes off her, in a tight red dress that was just perfect. Everything about her was perfect that night, and Jack wondered why Miranda wanted her, all awkward and antisocial and not bothering to put on anything out of the ordinary for Jane's party. She forced herself to look back to the cute blond girl, who gave her an understanding smile, before she was whisked off to dance with Jane. 'Dance'. It looked painful.

Miranda seemed to enjoy herself. She'd been talking to that Jacob guy, and then to a tall, very pretty girl with glasses and short hair that was dyed in that odd white hue that made people look like their grandparents, but she actually rocked it. Jack didn't know who she was. She would have remembered that one if she'd seen her before.

Eventually Miranda moved her very shapely ass back to Jack, slumped down next to her, drink in her hand, smiling, looking a little flushed.

"It's kind of hot in here, isn't it?"

"What are you drinking?" Jack asked suspiciously.

Miranda gave her a wry grin.

"That kid, James? He spiked the punch with, I don't even know, vodka?"

"So you're getting plastered?" Jack asked irritably.

Miranda raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you of all people would be cool with that."

"Well, I am not."

"Why?"

"Just because, that's why. And you're underage..."

"Like you care about that when you're smoking!"

"That is not the same fucking thing! Smoking doesn't get you shitfaced and stupid."

People were staring at her now. She'd hardly even realized she'd raised her voice.

"Fuck," she muttered.

"Is everything okay?"

Liara again.

"No, everything is not okay. Some loser spiked the punch."

Liara frowned.

"I'd better tell Jane..."

Jack felt Miranda's hand on her shoulder, but shrugged it off, then got to her feet and forced her way through an astonishing amount of people, into the hallway, where she found the bathroom door locked. She cursed, then turned around to face Miranda, who'd followed her.

"Can we please just talk about this?"

That moment, the bathroom door opened, and Jack pushed past whoever and into the room, but Miranda squeezed in behind her.

"Can't you fucking leave me alone?"

"No, I won't."

Miranda locked the door.

"Look, it was just a drink. I don't know what your problem is. I can handle it. It's not like I have never had alcohol before."

"You, with your posh princess perfection, getting sloshed?" Jack let herself sink onto the closed toilet.

"We've been to Europe on holidays a lot, I've had the odd glass of wine here and there in the last two years."

Jack snorted.

"And that makes you a die-hard drinker?"

"Why do you have to be like that? What's the matter? I'm fine, I'm not even a little drunk."

That sentence would have been much more believable if Miranda hadn't chosen that moment to sit down on the rim of the tub, promptly slipping off backwards, falling into the tub with a surprised yelp.

"Fuck, did you hurt yourself?" Jack jumped up and rushed to her.

"Ouch. Damn. No, it's fine." Miranda looked up at her. "That doesn't prove a thing, you know?"

"Yeah, right."

Jack sighed. Then she raised an eyebrow.

"Do you have a wet ass now, at least?"

Miranda looked down at the tub.

"No, it's all dry."

She tugged at her dress until it covered slightly more of her, then let her legs dangle a little over the rim of the tub, still looking up at Jack.

"Move over."

Miranda shifted, and Jack stepped into the tub and sat down next to her, then swung her legs over the rim of the tub as well.

"This isn't comfortable at all."

Miranda chuckled, then she leant against her a little.

"Jack, can you just talk to me?"

Jack screwed up her face.

"I got drunk a lot, okay? Like a year ago, or a little more."

"And what happened?" Miranda asked softly.

Jack turned her head away.

"One day I just woke up next to a strange guy and I couldn't remember a thing, but it was obvious that we'd fucked, but I had no idea what had gone down, and I panicked and ran off and tried to find a doctor who'd check me for STDs and also prescribe me, you know..."

"I'm sorry," Miranda whispered, wide-eyed.

"Don't say that. I was fucking stupid, I deserve to be punched, not pitied."

"Dammit, Jack, that's not true. That was basically statuto..."

"Don't! Just don't." Jack glared at her. "I don't wanna talk about it any more. Not now. Not ever. Got it?"

"If that's what you want," Miranda said after a moment.

But she still gave her a pained, pitying look, and Jack didn't know if she wanted to bolt or scream at her, but that look needed to go away.

"I don't have any, by the way."

"What?"

"STDs."

"Oh. Good."

And then Miranda put her hand onto Jack's, and Jack just squeezed it, hard, then curled up against her.

"It's not your fault. It's not."

"Are you getting some in there? Because good for you, but other people have to pee!"

"Well, shit."

"They're not getting some, they're having drama where no one can watch! Spoilsports."

"I hate this party."

Miranda kissed Jack's temple.

"I know. Let's just leave, okay?"

They crawled out of the tub, Miranda wincing a little.

"It did hurt, didn't it?" Jack asked.

"Not much."

Jack wasn't convinced.

"I hope you had fun while my bladder was about to explode!" the girl outside said as she rushed past. "If you weren't quite so hot together..."

"Oh shut up, Sam," Miranda muttered.

Her hand brushed lightly against Jack's arm, and she muttered:

"I'll just say goodbye, okay?"

To Jack's annoyance, Jane and Liara both came to say goodbye properly.

"Not much of a hugging person here!" she protested as Liara moved from Miranda to her.

The girl just gave her a smile and then said:

"I hope you'll enjoy the rest of your evening."

"And thanks for coming!" Jane added.

"Do you have things under control here?" she asked lowly, while doing up the laces of her boots.

"Oh, yeah, we'll be fine. Nothing I can't deal with."

"Good. Bye then."

They walked down the stairs in silence. Only when they were outside, Miranda said lowly:

"My dad's away on business, do you want to sleep at my place? It's closer."

Jack turned to look at her.

"If that's okay with you?" she said softly.

"Of course it is. I wouldn't ask you otherwise."

Jack reached out and pulled her close.

"Thanks for bearing with me."

"What? Where did that come from?"

"I know I'm not great with people and you were enjoying yourself at the party before I freaked."

"Thanks for coming with me and staying for two hours, even though you really didn't want to."

Jack pressed her forehead against Miranda's. They just stood there like that for a moment, before Jack muttered:

"You look amazing tonight."

Miranda smiled.

"You always look amazing."

"Now you're just being ridiculous!" Jack protested with a smile.

Miranda opened her lips to say something in return, when a car drove by and someone shouted "Lesbians!" at them.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious!" Jack yelled after them as they drove away. "Honestly, like we didn't know? Fucker."

"Let's just go, okay?" Miranda muttered.


	8. Chapter 8

"Would you mind if I smoked?" Jack asked as they walked down the street.

"You're really asking for my opinion?"

"Yeah."

"Well, actually, yes."

Jack huffed.

"I thought so."

"It's a terrible habit."

"I know, okay?"

Miranda gave her a sideways glance.

"When did you start?"

Jack thought for a moment.

"About two years ago? Someone offered and I took it, and it was bad at first, but quickly turned into a way to just... unwind."

"Huh."

So she didn't light a cigarette, and they kept walking in silence for a while.

"You know where we're going?"

"Yes, I've lived here all my life."

"Are we going to go through that park?"

Miranda looked over at Jack.

"Are you scared?" It was an honest question, no teasing.

"I've lived in bigger cities, you wouldn't want to go through a park at night..."

"I see. But that park is already part of the estates, guards and all. Don't worry."

She took Jack's hand and squeezed it quickly, before letting go just as fast. Jack gave her a long, silent look.

Eventually they came out at the other side of the park, which Jack thought she recognized, even though everything pretty much looked the same here. Then a playground caught her eye.

"Did you come here as a kid?"

Miranda looked towards the set of swings and seesaws, frowning.

"I was always kind of too busy."

"Even as a kid?"

Miranda shrugged uncomfortably.

"Didn't you want to? I mean, swings! I used to love swings."

"Did you now?" Miranda smiled.

"Yeah. There was this family I lived with. Lots of kids, house always too loud and crowded. But they had this ancient wooden swing in their garden. The other kids didn't really use it, it was kind of gross, to be honest. Moss growing on it, always damp. Basically rotting. But I loved it. I always tried to go higher, I wanted to go all the way round."

Miranda snorted.

"Cute."

"It broke in mid-swing one day and I fell off. Broke my arm. And I couldn't stop crying. Because it hurt, but also because of the stupid broken swing. I was about seven or so."

"Poor baby," Miranda said wryly.

"Well, it still beats having been too busy to play outside."

"I always envied the other kids."

"You can go now."

Miranda raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not a kid anymore."

"Playgrounds are for kids only during the day. At night they belong to beautiful girls in red dresses."

Miranda smiled at that, but then pointed at the sign next to the playground.

"It says only for kids under fourteen."

Jack rolled her eyes mightily.

"Seriously Miranda? Come on, it's not like you're going to break anything."

Jack took her by the hand and pulled her along.

"There, I'll push you."

Miranda sat down, laughing, and let Jack push her for a while, swinging higher every time.

"You do realize it's never going to go all the way around, no matter how hard you push?" she yelled back at Jack in mid-swing.

"No reason not to try!" Jack called back.

"Okay, okay, I've had enough!"

She let her feet drag over the sand below, almost lost her balance and tumbled back against Jack's chest.

"Ouch."

"You okay?" Jack's arms had tightened around her, reflexively.

"Ass still hurts a little from falling into the tub," Miranda admitted.

Jack kissed the top of her head.

"Poor thing."

"And now I feel queasy."

"Then let's get you home."

Miranda turned around to look at her.

"You don't want a go?"

"No, it's just not the same when you don't have a damp, greenish spot on your butt after."

"I'm sure we can arrange that somehow, some grass, that puddle over there... What?"

Jack was looking at her with a strange smirk that made her feel very self-conscious, all of a sudden.

"Why are you looking like that, do I have something on my face?"

"Do you know that you're..."

"What?"

Jack shook her head.

"Nothing."

"Come on, Jack, don't do that, it's unfair."

"You're you."

"Who else would I be?" Miranda replied, a little impatiently.

"Not really you. You the way other people want you to be."

Miranda looked at her feet.

"Didn't you ever want to live up to someone's expectations?"

Jack laughed.

"No one ever cared enough to expect much of me. Even then I probably failed. But it wasn't like I cared much, either. Just always did shit my way."

She didn't tell Miranda that she made her nervous because of that. That she might have expectations Jack couldn't live up to. Instead she bent down to kiss her, then pulled her to her feet.

"What's going on here... Oh, Miss Lawson."

Jack turned around to glare at a pudgy security guard, who looked confused for a moment, then turned an interesting shade of bright red.

"We were just about to go home," Miranda said in a remarkable good-little-girl voice that made Jack roll her eyes.

"Oh, I see. You girls do that, then," the man muttered, before hurrying away.

"Wow, awkward."

"Come on."

"Security guy knows your name. Geez."

Miranda just took her hand and pulled her along like an obedient little child, but Jack didn't mind all that much. She found she rather liked Miranda being assertive.

. . . . .

"Are you falling asleep?"

"A little."

Jack looked up at her from where she was lying with her head in Miranda's lap, while Miranda's fingertips drew lazy circles through the oddly soft stubble where Jack's head was shaved. The close proximity made Miranda feel anything but sleepy.

"Do you have to work tomorrow?" she asked, wondering if Jack would mind if she undid her ponytail. She'd never seen her with her hair open.

"Yeah, afternoon. You could come along. I can't give you free coffee the entire time, though."

Jack smiled at her, and Miranda let her fingers wander down to her lips, traced their beautiful curves lightly.

"Oh. No, it's fine. I'd just be in the way."

"Nonsense. You could read or do homework."

Miranda frowned, and Jack reached up and stroked her cheek.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't pay for anything. I have no money."

Jack stared up at her.

"What?"

"He said if I can't be responsible, I can't be trusted with money," she muttered through gritted teeth. "I have no money of my own."

Jack sat up.

"Not being responsible meaning being with me?"

Miranda just shrugged.

"What a jerk!"

"It's okay, really. He's not going to bully me into submission. I've been thinking maybe I could babysit. I am responsible, no matter what he says. Parents would love me."

Jack raised her eyebrows.

"Have you been around little kids much?"

"Well... no," Miranda admitted.

She laughed.

"You should totally try." Then she grew serious again. "But really, what an ass your dad is."

Miranda gave her a pained look, and Jack pulled her close.

"I'm sorry."

"It isn't your fault. Really, something like this was inevitable. It's okay. You're tired, let's just sleep."

She kissed Jack gently, hoping that would make the worried and still slightly guilty look on her face go away.

. . . . .

Miranda awoke gradually to gentle hands caressing her arms, plying tousled hair away from her neck, lips against her throat.

"Good morning," she said lowly.

"Morning."

Jack buried her head in Miranda's hair.

"You smell so nice, why do you smell so nice?"

"Shampoo?" Miranda muttered, still a little sleepy, but arched into Jack's touch. "You can use it if you want."

Jack's hands slipped below the shirt and moved up her stomach to her breasts. Miranda hummed appreciatively.

"You could take a shower with me."

Jack stopped and was silent for a moment.

"Are you serious?"

"Pretty much."

"Naked?"

Miranda chuckled.

"No, in an evening gown."

"I'd like that. Can I have a tophat?"

Her hand started roaming again and Miranda sighed lowly.

"Or we could just stay here and be naked," she suggested.

"I... does that mean you're, uhm, ready?"

"Yeah," Miranda said lowly, "I guess I am."

"Well, I'm fairly naked already..."

Miranda turned around to her, pushed the blanket down to her waist and looked her over with a smile.

"That you are."

Her fingers slowly trailed up Jack's naked upper body, watched her erupt in goosebumps, drew slow circles around her breasts. Jack's fingers curled in her hair, she pulled her close, started nipping at her throat, then tugged Miranda's shirt up.

"Jack?"

"Yeah?" Jack looked up reluctantly.

"You're staring."

"Yeah, well, have you looked at them? They are... pretty amazing."

"I have and they are," Miranda said and blushed a little as Jack cackled, before she bent down to kiss her breasts.

"I like that, you know?" Jack muttered against her skin a moment later.

"What?" Miranda had a hard time keeping her eyes open.

"That you're not modest. It's hot."

"You give..." She took a deep breath, hands running along Jack's spine. "You give the strangest compliments. I... I like that."

Jack's hands slowly made their way down her body, fingernails scraping lightly over her stomach and sides, making Miranda twitch. Then her fingertips traced the edges of Miranda's panties, slowly, hesitantly.

"You sure?" Jack asked lowly, lifting her head to look at Miranda.

"I am."

She let her head fall back into the pillow when Jack started rubbing her through the fabric, before she tugged the panties down and off, and nudged her legs apart with her knee. There was something in the look Jack gave her when she opened her eyes again that made Miranda feel hotter than the hand stroking her between her legs, made her heart race, her hands pull Jack up to kiss her before she even made the conscious decision. Jack's mouth just rested against hers while her fingers inched lower, breath soft on Miranda's lips, Miranda trying to concentrate on all the sensations at once.

Which was the moment she heard her dad call her name.

"No!"

Jack let go of her at once.

"Well, shit."

"Dammit!"

"Should I hide?" Jack's voice was only half serious, but it made Miranda look around frantically.

"There is nowhere to hide in here."

There was a knock on the door and Jack quickly pulled the blanket up.

"Miranda?"

"Oh god."

There was nothing she could have said. Her mind was entirely blank.

"What's going on here?"

He'd never sounded that angry before.

"Well, what does it look like?"

So Jack wasn't making things easier. Not exactly a surprise. Miranda closed her eyes for a moment. She felt sick.

"Get out!" her father hissed. "And if I ever see you anywhere near my home again, you'll regret it."

"I'm in my fucking panties, I'm not getting out of this bed as long as you're staring at me."

They just glared at each other, while Miranda wished the earth would swallow her up.

"Three minutes."

Slammed the door behind him as he left.

"He wasn't supposed to come back until tomorrow," Miranda muttered, groping for her clothes.

"Fuck, I can't just leave you!"

Jack struggled into her shirt and trousers, staring at her all the while.

"It's fine. No, really, I'll manage..."

"He wouldn't hit you, would he?"

Miranda shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she said lowly.

Jack took her hand.

"I'm embarrassed as fuck, but you're the one who's in trouble."

Miranda squeezed her hand, feeling like she'd burst into tears any moment.

"You'd better go. I'll text you later, okay?"

"Fuck." Jack bent forward and kissed her cheek. "I really don't want to leave you in this mess..."

"It would be worse if you stayed."

Jack didn't look convinced, but Miranda pushed her towards the door.

"Just go. I'm fine."


	9. Chapter 9

For a while, there was nothing but silence. Miranda didn't look at her father, just sat on her bed as neatly as she could, hands folded in her lap, eyes trained at her knees. How she hated that silence. It made her want to scream, but she couldn't, she never could.

"Explain yourself."

"What is there to explain?" she replied wearily.

"How am I supposed to trust you ever again?"

"I just wanted to be with her. I really like her," she burst out.

"Is this some sort of teenage rebellion? I expected you to be smarter than that. More mature."

Miranda shook her head.

"I have always done everything you've asked of me. But this. This is nothing you get a say in. This isn't even up for debate." She wanted to shout it at him, but her voice was low and toneless.

"That girl is the worst kind of company. You're not seeing her again."

She gave a soft laugh.

"Or what? Ground me? Throw me out?" Miranda closed her eyes. "Do it. If this is what it takes..." Words failed her. She was scared. But determined. Finally looked up to meet his angry glare.

"Who is this girl, anyway? Who are her parents? Why do they let her run around like that?"

Miranda balled her hands into fists.

"She has no family. She's living on her own."

He snorted.

"Miranda. Be reasonable. I am open-minded, if you prefer women, I'm sure we can find someone much more suitable for you."

She just stared at him, then shook her head.

"You just don't get it, do you? I don't want anyone else. I want Jack. She's great, and smart, she's an artist, and she's worth so much more than anyone you could pick for me, so much more than anyone else."

And I'm falling in love, Miranda thought, but she couldn't tell him. No, she didn't want to. He had no right to know about her feelings.

"You're such a child, Miranda. Fine. Be like that. Hand me your phone. No internet for you, either. And you'll come home right after school."

She raised her eyebrows and gave him a cold glare as she handed her phone over. If Miranda had learned anything from him, it was that kind of look. He just shook his head and left without another word.

With a deep sigh she let herself fall back onto her bed. Buried her face in the pillow that still smelled like Jack. In spite of everything the memory of Jack's hands on her made her horny as hell. And terribly embarrassed at the same time. Damn, she really hoped Jack would put up with all this shit. She couldn't even write to her as she'd promised. Miranda's feelings threatened to go haywire and she curled together on her bed, trying in vain to bite back her tears.

. . . . .

Jack was heavily preoccupied all day. She almost broke the fucking coffee machine when she forgot to refill the water. Her eyes were positively glued to her phone, and hell, she was worried when Miranda didn't send her a message.

When she finally got a text, dropping the phone in her hurry to read it, it wasn't from Miranda, but from Jane, who asked if she wanted photos from the party. Jack was close to telling her to fuck herself, but then thought there might be pics of Miri, and reluctantly gave Jane Shepard her email address.

When she finally got home, she turned on her crappy old notebook, which took forever to boot up, then checked her mail at once, but there was nothing but spam and the link to Jane's pics. Which contained an awful amount of shots of her scowling, but every time she noticed Miranda in one of them her heart felt as if it were trying to crawl out her chest through her throat. Damn, she really had fallen hard. She wanted to text her, but suspected by then that it might just get her into more trouble. So Jack just sat there, staring at a particularly sweet picture of Miranda, fingertips tapping restlessly onto the desk. She hated the thought, and she wouldn't admit it to anyone, but sometimes she couldn't help thinking it would have been nice to have someone to talk to. An adult. But then, parents were no guarantee for any kind of caring about you, Miranda's dad had demonstrated that quite nicely. Compared to her, Jack thought, she was much better off alone. At least she could bring home whoever she wanted.

Not that she wanted to bring home anyone but Miranda.

She took a pencil and carefully sketched out Miranda's face, then looked at the wall. There was still free space.

"You really like her, don't you?"

Jack wheeled around.

"Fuck, Liz, you startled me! Don't sneak up on me like that."

"Sorry. I knocked, actually. You were just really lost in thought. That's a very nice drawing. I like it better than the rest. Everything else is so sad, but look at her."

Jack didn't know what to say.

"Was there something you wanted?"

"I've made dinner. Just spaghetti. Are you hungry?"

Jack looked back at her half-finished work, then shrugged.

"Yeah, okay. Thanks."

. . . . .

To Jack's utter relief, Miranda was waiting for her in front of the school the next morning.

"Fuck, I was worried!"

She wanted to reach out and touch her, but then thought better of it and let her hand sink again. They hadn't been particularly discreet at the party, but Jack really didn't know how much public display of affection Miranda was okay with.

Miranda was too preoccupied to notice all of it, anyway.

"I couldn't text you, he took my phone, and didn't let me use the computer."

"Ugh, what a... How are you, what did he say, what did he do?"

Miranda grimaced.

"I am grounded. I don't even know if I can take that seriously. What am I, ten? I'll be eighteen in half a year. Honestly, the more he tries to rein me in, the less I care."

Suddenly she looked flustered.

"I'm still so sorry that happened." Blushing, even. Jack remembered the feeling of Miranda's skin under her fingers, the way she'd looked, flushed and a little nervous, but eager as well, and Jack felt the heat creeping up her neck and face, too.

"I've been in worse trouble."

Miranda looked relieved.

"You'll have to tell me about it someday."

"Maybe I will. So... grounded? Indefinitely?"

Miranda huffed.

"He can't do that. I am not a child. I..." She looked at Jack, with a small smile, and brushed her hair behind her ear. "I'm feeling a little reckless. I'm sure that's your bad influence on me." She winked. "Would you like to do something this afternoon?"

Jack gave her a frown.

"Do you think that's a good idea? Pissing him off even more?"

"Are you worried?"

"Of course I'm worried. You're getting in trouble because your dad doesn't like me!"

"Jack, stop it." Miranda ran her hand through her hair. "This is what he always does. Not quite so drastically, because... well, nevermind, but it has nothing to do with you, okay?"

"But it has to do with me. I like you, I don't want this to turn into an even bigger mess." She buried her hands in her pockets.

Miranda shook her head, then looked up at the sky, muttering:

"I like you, too, I just want to spend time with you, I did nothing wrong, I don't deserve to be punished." She looked back at Jack. "If you don't want to put up with this, I'd understand, but..."

"No! Fuck, that's not it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Come on, I'm not scared of your old man. The fuck kind of chickenshit do you think I am?"

Miranda smiled a little at that.

"Good. So... This afternoon?"

"Don't you have something super important on your schedule?"

"No. Well, yeah. You."

Jack snorted and grinned at her.

"Too tacky?" Miranda asked.

"No, it's a great line. Yeah, sure. Okay. This afternoon."

"No more interruptions," Miranda said softly, making Jack wish, rather urgently, that it were afternoon already.

She nodded.

"No more interruptions."

. . . . .

Jack felt unusually nervous as they made their way toward her flat. She wasn't entirely sure why. It wasn't the idea of sex itself so much as the thought of sleeping with Miranda. And that was odd, because really, it had been on her mind pretty much ever since they'd first kissed. And yesterday they'd been very close, but she hadn't had much time to think about it then, just gone with it. Now she'd had all day to wonder why she wanted this so badly, beyond the fact that Miranda was hot as hell. And then she thought of the drawing on her wall and wasn't sure if she wanted Miranda to see it. It had seemed a good idea last night, but now it felt a little ridiculous. Cheesy, really. Bordering on creepy.

And on top of it all, she couldn't help wondering if Miranda would get in worse trouble for this. But hell, who was she to tell Miranda what to do, right?

"You're quiet."

"I might have drawn your face onto my wall!" Jack burst out.

Miranda blinked at her a few times.

"You're not sure?"

Jack rolled her eyes.

"I'm sure."

Miranda gave her a lopsided, pleased smile.

"Really? Without a reference?"

That was not quite the reaction Jack had anticipated, but she was glad Miranda didn't seem to mind.

"No, Jane sent me party pics. You happen to look great in all of them."

"I bet you're pulling a face in all of them. You'll have to show me." She grinned at her.

"You're in an awfully good mood. I mean, considering your trouble at home."

Miranda stopped abruptly.

"Can you maybe just not constantly remind me of that?"

Jack took a step back.

"Gee, okay, I was just asking!"

"I just don't want to talk about it anymore."

Miranda hadn't meant to snap at Jack. But she could positively see her worrying. Worrying about her. And that moment she really hated her father. The way he got into people's heads. The way he corrupted everything she dared to want for herself.

"I'm sorry," she muttered after a moment, digging her nails into her palms in an effort to remain calm.

"Ugh, don't do that." Jack pried her clenched fists open gently. "It's alright."

Miranda bent forward and kissed her quickly.

"Just don't worry so much on my behalf. I really don't know how to deal with that."

Jack made a movement that was half shrug, half nod.

"I'll try."

. . . . .

Miranda stared at herself in miniature on Jack's wall.

"That is..."

"Too much?"

Miranda had to swallow for a moment, before she thought her voice wouldn't betray too much of her feelings.

"The poem's a bit much. But I like it. I really, really like it."

She was surprised by how nervous Jack had become. She took her hand, quickly, before she could change her mind, and kissed it lightly. Just her lips brushing over Jack's knuckles.

"I think I'm falling in love," she whispered, mouth dry. The startled expression Jack gave her for a moment made her regret saying it, but then Jack pulled her close, brought their lips together, kissing her hard, and rough, and just a little desperate.

"Me, too," Jack said a moment later, very quietly. Then she added: "Fucking feelings, right?"

Miranda laughed.

"Goddamn fucking feelings."


	10. Chapter 10

Miranda sat on Jack's bed, in her underwear, being nervous. But not too nervous. She wanted this badly. More than she'd wanted anything in a long time. Jack was looking at her with a small frown, and Miranda reached out and took her hand, rubbed her thumb over the back of it.

"Are you okay?" Jack asked lowly.

Miranda smiled.

"Yes. A little nervous. But more excited. Sort of giddy, really."

She looked over at Jack, wondering why exactly she seemed so hesitant, all of a sudden.

"You don't need, like, candles and rose petals and stuff?"

Miranda snorted and raised her eyebrows.

"Don't be silly. No, I just need you." It was a horribly cheesy thing to say, and she blushed, but it was true nevertheless.

Jack tried to hide her smile at it, but failed entirely.

"Fuck, why d'you have to say shit like that, now I'm kind of nervous, too."

Miranda inched closer.

"Just come here, okay?"

She kissed Jack's nose, then her lips.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful your eyes are?" Miranda asked, her fingers tracing the line of Jack's brow. "And your lips, god, your lips." Kissed her again, slowly, deeply.

Jack pulled her closer, let her hands run over Miranda's back, her sides, then bent down to kiss her throat, making Miranda gasp. Her fingers fumbled with the clasp of the other girl's bra, until Miranda gave an amused snort, bent her arms at a weird-looking angle and undid it herself.

"They're perfect, anyway, you don't need a bra," Jack muttered, a little flustered, looking down at Miranda's breasts. She cupped one, let her thumb circle over the quickly hardening nipple, then bent down to lick the other. Miranda squirmed against her, buried her fingers in Jack's hair, before she let herself be pushed back onto the bed.

Jack's fingers inched deeper gradually, mapping every part of her stomach with slow, circling movements of her fingertips, blunt nails scraping over her skin, sending shivers down Miranda's spine. Then they reached the hem of her underwear and Jack hesitated for a moment, making Miranda mutter "Oh, don't stop now!"

Jack chuckled, and Miranda closed her eyes when Jack cupped her through her underwear, rubbed her lightly through the material for a moment, before she pulled Miranda's panties off and placed her palm against her mound, stroked through curly dark hair, then moved lower. Miranda twitched when Jack's fingertips made contact with her clit, breathing faster, pushed her hips forward into the touch. Jack's fingers rubbed up and down slowly for a while, then she let the tip of one finger slip into Miranda, carefully, meeting with little resistance, just Miranda's breath hitched.

"I am hurting you?"

"No... no, that is... strange. Not bad."

Jack let her finger slip in all the way, then started moving in and out slowly, thumb rubbing Miranda's clit. After a brief moment of getting used to it, Miranda started moving in time, slow, shallow movements of her hips, breath labored, broken by small moans that made Jack increasingly horny. She moved faster, felt Miranda shudder and clench down on her finger, low cries spilling from her lips as she came. Jack let her fingers trail through the wetness for a moment, then removed her hand and bent over Miranda, kissed her deeply.

"Damn, that was... amazing," Miranda muttered, face flushed deeply.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Jack said, one hand on Miranda's breasts again.

"And you're not even naked yet, that isn't fair."

"It isn't?" Jack grinned.

"Definitely not."

Miranda tugged at the tank top, and Jack let it be pulled off her, cursing as Miranda's hands brushed over her newly-exposed nipples, fingers rubbing in small, concentric circles around them. She was shy at first, all tentative fingers, skimming over Jack's skin, undressing her slowly. But she grew bolder fast, to Jack's delight. Lips at her throat, travelling lower, while her hands were working their way up her thighs slowly. Jack looked down at her, the sight alone was hot enough to make her heart race, that pretty head moving down her body, tracing kisses along her skin, fingers starting to explore her. She kept watching until she couldn't keep her eyes open anymore, let her head sink back onto the pillow, panting, her fingers clenched in Miranda's hair, feeling her move beneath her hands, until all sensations coalesced into one, cresting and breaking.

When she opened her eyes again, Miranda looking down at her, a very pleased smile on her lips.

"Fuck, come here!" Jack muttered and surged up to kiss her hard, still feeling Miranda smile against her lips.

. . . . .

She couldn't remember a day in her life when she'd been happier than this. All afternoon, lying on Jack's bed, making out, talking about nothing much in between, exploring each other. Jack's taste on her lips, the way she felt, teeth against the skin of her neck, low laughter. Forgetting that she was stark naked after a while. Realizing that she was able to make Jack come, which was the most beautiful thing in the world. Jack's voice, low and a little hoarse in her ear, fingers in her hair. Just staring into Jack's eyes until she bumped Miranda's nose and then kissed her for a long time.

Miranda hadn't even realized how tense she'd been until the feeling was gone.

"You're thinking about something."

"I do that on occasion, yes."

"You think it's hot when you're clever, do you?" Jack bit her lower lip softly. "Well, it is."

"I just thought that I haven't been that relaxed in a long time."

Jack grinned.

"That's because you're finally doing something you like. Me."

Miranda snorted.

"Now look who thinks she's so witty! But yeah, you're right, I guess."

"Well, you can do me any time. I'm selfless like that."

"I bet you are!"

She let her fingers travel down Jack's stomach, slowly, watching her with a smile.

"I don't think I've ever wanted to spend so much time with anyone before," Jack said lowly.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I generally don't like being around people. Makes me feel on edge."

"Should I feel honored?"

"Yeah, you should." Jack smirked.

"Why me?" Miranda asked a moment later, feeling just a little self-conscious again.

"I don't know."

"Oh."

"Well, no. There's something about you that's... fuck. I don't know. Just right, okay? Makes me care about you. And it doesn't have much to do with how fucking hot you are, not that I'm sorry about that. But if I just wanted to fuck you, we wouldn't be having this conversation, and I should really just shut up now, before I say something even more stupid."

"That wasn't stupid," Miranda said lowly, feeling flushed, but smiling.

"Maybe it's the way you look when you're both pleased and embarrassed."

"Shut up."

There was a moment of silence, before Jack asked:

"What about me, though? What made you think 'I have to get me some of that', except for the fact that I'm hot as hell, too?"

Miranda was quiet for a while. Even though the question was casual, she felt that Jack deserved an honest answer. But honesty wasn't really a strength of hers.

"At first, I envied you your freedom," she said eventually, remembering what it had been about Jack that had caught her attention in the first place. "You looked so free. Like there was nothing in the world that would stop you from just doing your thing. Like you didn't care what anyone thought about you. And then there were your eyes." She stopped, feeling utterly silly. Jack just looked at her without saying anything, and eventually Miranda continued: "And you make me feel like I don't have to pretend anything around you. That I can be myself. And I'm not even sure who that is, really. But I want to find out. Here I am, naked in every possible way, and it's okay. I trust you." She shook her head. "That's all awfully self-centered, isn't it?"

"A little," Jack conceded with a smile. "But I don't mind. You give pretty speeches. I don't know about the being free part, though. It's true that I don't give a fuck, most of the time. But I'm not sure that makes me free."

Miranda moved closer, leaned against Jack, kissed her shoulder.

"Perhaps not. But that's what I thought. Anyway, all I know is I really like being here with you."

. . . . .

Miranda had to leave, eventually. But for once, she was barely even apprehensive. There was nothing her father could do to take this day away from her. She felt indomitable.

But when she came home, there was nothing. No accusations. No anger.

"You're late," he just said. "There's some leftover dinner in the refrigerator."

She stared at him.

"I've already eaten," she said after a moment. Which was true, they'd eventually gotten dressed very reluctantly and made a couple of sandwiches. In any case, saying that should not have made her blush the way it did.

"Did you have a nice day?" He looked up from the paper he was reading.

"I did."

Damn, he even smiled.

"Good. Look, Miranda, I may have overreacted yesterday. You are not a child anymore, I'll have to get used to that. But you'll have to understand that I was angry because I worry about you. I know that at your age, parents can feel – overbearing. I was young once, I remember what it was like. Let's forget yesterday's argument. I may not approve of the choices you're currently making, but I've realized I cannot make your decisions for you. And despite the things I've said in anger, I know you're very smart and mature and I will have to trust in your judgement."

Miranda stared at him, then just nodded and muttered "Okay". It all sounded very kind and honest, and Miranda wished she could have believed a word of it. But she had a feeling that there was more going on, and she couldn't shake it as she made her way up the stairs and into her room, where she found she'd been given back her phone. She thought about calling Jack or maybe Liara, but then decided against it. What would she have said? That her father had been too nice? Too apologetic? Instead she turned on her notebook, went online – her internet connection was back, too – and looked up something she'd meant to for a long time now.


	11. Chapter 11

"You look happy. Actually, that grin is a little unsettling."

"I'm in such a good mood, I find you barely even annoying today."

Jack gave her an even toothier grin, and Jane sat down next to her.

"Well, I'm happy for you."

Jack snorted.

"Yeah, whatever." Then she rolled her eyes. "Okay, you helped some. Not that I don't think you're a pain in the ass and meddlesome and pushy."

"You're very welcome," Jane said with an annoying air of smugness. "Where is your girlfriend, by the way?"

"Busy being studious. Said she really needed to study for a biology test."

"Well, more time for us to bond!" Jane smirked.

Jack just shook her head.

"I hate you so much. How does your girlfriend bear with you?"

"Between my charm, my stunningly good looks and winning personality, how could she not? Oh, you don't mind the others coming over, sitting with us?"

Jane waved over some of her friends and Jack rolled her eyes again, but decided to stay, just until she was done with her dinner.

. . . . .

"How did your test go?"

Miranda smiled and sat down in the grass next to Jack, carefully smoothing down her skirt.

"Good."

Jack frowned at her.

"You seem nervous."

For a moment, Miranda was torn between telling her or not, but then she made up her mind.

"I am. I'm going to meet my sister. I called her mom, and she said it's not my fault my father's a jerk, her words, and she'll let me come by Friday afternoon. And I'm a little worried, I don't know the first thing about kids, I'm not very good at dealing with them, but she's my little sister, and I am not usually that nervous about anything."

"Relax. She's what? Two?"

"Closer to three, actually."

"At that age all they care about is whether or not you're going to lie down on the floor and roll around with them, read them some stupid story in an annoying non-linear way, immitating all the animal noises as you go. But don't teach her swear words, her mom will hate you if you do that."

"That would not have occurred to me in the first place, Jack!"

"Oh, but it's fun."

Jack shrugged, giving her a crooked grin.

"What's her mom like?"

Miranda thought about it for a moment.

"I really don't know her all that well. He didn't bring her home often. The few times he did, she struck me as, well, the word that comes to mind is competent, really. Just smart and attractive and knew what she wanted. Turned out not to be him after all."

"Huh. I can't imagine anyone wanting your dad."

Miranda grimaced.

"You've always just been at the receiving end of his disapproval. He can be really charming. The other kids' moms used to fawn over him at any school event he deigned to honor with his presence. Going on about how brave it was of him to raise a daughter on his own. On his own! As if."

She pursed her lips. Jack just kept frowning.

"I can't imagine your dad at school events, either."

"Oh. He was there often enough. To make sure I was better than everyone else. To hear teachers sing my praise. Checking up on his investment, really." Her voice grew quiet. "All my achievements were always actually his."

Jack gave her a deeply irritated look.

"You know that's bullshit, though, do you?"

"I don't know." Miranda shrugged. "Without all the money he spent on preschool and private tutors and music teachers, I might just be, well... average."

"It's not his money that worked hard and diligent. Come on, I've seen you study, I've seen your fucking schedule, that's not his money's effort, that's yours! It may have helped a little, but they're still your achievements. Don't put yourself down like that. You're not an investment, and your dad's such a jerk."

Miranda sighed.

"Every time you say something like that part of me really wants to defend him, even though you're kind of right."

"Well, he is your dad after all. How come he didn't do that with your sister, though?"

"Oh, he tried. For a while he was convinced she'd live with us, even though they'd already broken up. He was talking to his lawyers a lot. But then that just stopped from one day to the next, and her name was never mentioned again in our household."

"How come?"

Miranda frowned.

"Frankly, I think the only thing that might have changed his mind is... Oh, but that's just my idea, really. But if she'd known something about him, or his business, something that could have been used to blackmail him..."

"Wow." Jack stared at her. "You really think that about your dad? I mean, I wouldn't put that past him, but you saying so is strong stuff."

"I know. But he usually doesn't change his mind like that. Never, actually, until, well, now, with you and me, and I don't trust him on that."

Jack laughed and shook her head.

"Still think he's scheming?"

"If you knew him, you'd be worried, too!"

She bumped her shoulder against Miranda's.

"What could he possibly do?"

Miranda gave her a small smile.

"How was you day, anyway?"

"All the people in my classes behaved expectedly idiotic, and Jane bothered me during lunch, but I was in a good mood, I didn't let anything inane get to me."

"Is it my influence? Tell me it's my influence." Miranda winked.

"If by 'influence' you mean the thought of you naked, then yes, definitely your influence."

. . . . .

Miranda got off the bus and walked another ten minutes to Jack's apartment. The ride had made her feel queasy, but not even that could stop her from smiling.

When she walked up the stairs, Jack was already opening the door.

"Saw you from the kitchen window. Wow, you look happy. So your playdate went well?"

"Oh Jack." Miranda hugged her and let herself be kissed for a moment, before pulling away, words positively gushing from her. "I should have done that so much sooner. She's adorable. And she can talk so much, and she called me 'Randa' the entire time, and she really liked my necklace. I would have given it to her, but I was scared she'd strangle herself. But she can have it later, if she wants."

There was a sort of dreamy expression on her face that was entirely new to Jack.

"Well, someone's obviously in love."

Miranda kissed her again.

"Jealous?"

Jack laughed.

"Not much. I really don't want to question anything that puts that kind of smile on your face. You're gorgeous." Her hands rested on Miranda's waist, sorely tempted to just take off her shirt there and then.

"I'd really like you to come the next time I visit. If you'd like to. You don't have to."

"Oh." The hopeful expression on Miranda's face was too fucking endearing. "Sure. Why not?"

Miranda smiled and kissed her again. Jack pulled her close and let her hands wander below her shirt.

"Ugh, don't, I'm so sticky." Miranda pulled away. "Busses are hell, I swear."

"I don't mind." Jack protested, making Miranda grin.

"But I do. Can I take a shower?"

"Okay, but my special lasagna's going to be done in ten minutes, so hurry."

"What's special about it?"

"Hopefully that it's neither burned nor underdone," Jack muttered under her breath.

. . . . .

Jack watched with a small smirk as Miranda cut her food slowly and daintily, before eventually trying some.

"You know, this is good lasagna. Barely even burned."

"Screw you."

She gave Jack a grin.

"I hoped you were going to do that later. Oh look, that actually made you blush. I didn't think it possible."

"You just caught me off guard with that pretty, dirty mouth is all. You know, unexpected from someone who can make cutting food look posh."

Miranda looked down at her hands in confusion.

"What?"

"Nothing. So, what was it like? Beside your sister being the cutest fucking thing on earth? And do you think her mom will be okay with me coming along?"

Miranda swallowed quickly, coughed for a moment, then nodded.

"She is really pretty cool, although I don't think she trusted me at first. Probably thought I was spying for my father. But we talked and I told her a little about what had been going on, and I guess she'd be happy to see you, if only as proof that I didn't make it all up."

Jack shook her head.

"Your dad has a way of making people really paranoid. Charming. Did you tell him you'd stay the night, by the way?"

"Yes, and he seemed okay with that. Not happy. More in a 'do what you think is necessary' way."

"You didn't tell him about Oriana?"

Miranda laughed.

"Of course not."

"Of course not," Jack repeated, shaking her head.

. . . . .

"Tell me more about you?"

Jack's fingers slowly travelled up and down Miranda's spine.

"About me?" she muttered, then was silent for quite a while.

"I don't know. It's just that I don't like dwelling on the past. I could list different cities and foster families and tell you about all the fights I got into, but I'd like to think it all doesn't matter that much."

Miranda lifted her head off Jack's shoulder to look at her. She reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face.

"What about friends? Lovers?"

Jack huffed.

"People who got you into trouble. People who didn't acknowledge your fucking existence during the day. No one ever really wanting you..."

She turned her head away and swallowed hard.

"Look, I... I wish I had something interesting to tell you. But it was all just a mess. I was a mess. This here – the apartment, and you – they're the best things that have happened to me in ages."

When Jack turned back to look at Miranda, she was still watching her quietly.

"I'm sorry," Jack muttered.

Miranda shook her head.

"It's okay." She bent down and kissed Jack's shoulder. "It really is."

Jack wasn't sure if she'd disappointed her. But there was nothing she could have told her that wouldn't have been even more disappointing. Still, her fingers traveled down Miranda's arm until she reached her hand, relieved when Miranda threaded her fingers through hers, then pulled her as close as she could.


	12. Chapter 12

"I'm just saying it looked dangerous!"

Jack rolled her eyes.

"But it wasn't! Fuck, Miri, relax. I just swung her around a little!"

"By her legs!"

"I was careful! And she loved it! She didn't even throw up. Your sister is a tiny badass. Heavy, though." Jack rubbed her upper arms. She'd be sore tomorrow, she knew.

The look Miranda gave her was still exasperated, and Jack shook her head, but smiled a little.

"It's kinda cute when you're all protective big sister." After a moment she added: "She looks a lot like you."

That made Miranda's face light up.

"She does, doesn't she?" She gave Jack a sideways glance, then said: "Thanks for coming."

"No problem. She's your sister, she means a lot to you. I get that. If I had a family..." Her voice trailed off, and she just shrugged after a moment, unsure of what she'd wanted to say in the first place.

"Do you want kids?" Miranda asked suddenly.

Jack stopped dead.

"Ha ha, wow. I don't think we're ready for this, babe."

Miranda rolled her eyes.

"Oh come on, don't be like that. I was just curious," she replied, blushing a little. "You know, have your own family?"

"I'm not sure I'd be any good at that," Jack muttered. "Not a clue. Ask me again in ten years, okay?"

They walked on in silence until they reached the bus stop, then Miranda said, as Jack checked the schedule:

"You're not bad with kids. You know, aside from the utter recklessness."

Jack shrugged and smiled self-consciously.

"Don't tell anyone, okay?"

"Worried about your reputation, tough girl?"

Jack stuck her tongue out. Miranda looked around, then drew closer, one hand on Jack's waist, the other stroking the nape of her neck, and kissed her. For a brief moment, Jack was taken by surprise, but then she requited it enthusiastically.

The bus, when it finally arrived, was almost empty, and Miranda was very grateful for it as Jack's fingers made their way beneath her skirt, her hand resting snugly between her thighs. Miranda tried to keep her blushing under control, wondering how Jack could appear for all intents and purposes completely unfazed.

. . . . .

Maybe she would have noticed the smile on his face if she hadn't been so lost in thought. She'd been too happy to worry much about her father, so he caught her off guard when he called her into his study that night.

"What is it?" Miranda asked as she stood in the door frame, wondering with a twinge of nervousness if he'd somehow found out about her visiting Ori.

He looked up at her from where he sat behind his desk, and she finally noticed the smile. Almost passing for kindness, but not quite.

"Why don't you sit down? We need to discuss something."

Miranda walked across the room reluctantly, feeling more uneasy by the second. She had never liked the study, everything inside was too dark, too heavy, too deliberately solemn. Oppressive, somehow. She sat down on the uncomfortable chair in front of the desk and watched her father closely.

"What do we need to discuss?" she asked in as neutral a tone as she could muster.

"I know I've promised to keep out of your affairs, but you must understand that I worry about you, Miranda."

She took a deep breath and tried to stay calm.

"What is it now?"

"What do you know about your... girlfriend?"

Her eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean?"

"Her life? Her past? Her... misdemeanors?"

It wasn't exactly a lump in her throat. It felt rather as if something was trying to claw its way out of it. Miranda felt herself tense, and she swallowed hard to get rid of the feeling, but to no avail.

"You don't know, do you? My poor child..."

Miranda huffed.

"Don't do that. Just say what you have to say."

He raised his eyebrows, but gave her an oddly benevolent, almost pitying smile, before reaching for an envelope lying on his desk and handing it to her.

"Peruse at your leisure. I hope you'll find it enlightening."

Miranda couldn't help herself, she opened the envelope and looked at the papers. Her fingers clenched on the paper until her knuckles whitened as she skimmed over the files.

"I don't believe this. How did you even... You couldn't get your hands on..."

"No?"

They both knew he could.

"If you don't believe me, why don't you ask her about it?"

"Dammit." She looked up and glared at him. "You enjoy that, don't you?"

"Your anger is not with me, Miranda. I'm merely concerned about you, as any good father would be. I just don't want you to throw away your life for someone like that."

Miranda just got up and left without another word.

. . . . .

Jack hadn't expected Miranda, but she was still pleasantly surprised, for about a second or two after she'd opened the door, until she saw the expression on her face and faltered.

"What's wrong?"

"You tell me."

The cold fury etched into Miranda's face made Jack back away in confusion that was already starting to turn into anger.

"What? What's going on?"

Briefly, Miranda seemed unable to speak, but then she pressed out:

"I know everything. Your past. What you did. I've seen your criminal record."

Jack felt her heart sink. She looked away from Miranda, buried her hands in the pockets of her jeans.

"So?" she muttered defensively.

"Dammit, Jack! At least you could have told me, instead I had to find out like that..."

"No! Okay? I could not. How do you know, anyway? That shit's not supposed to be accessible to the public!"

She looked at her again and for a moment, Miranda shifted uncomfortably as a vaguely guilty expression crossed her face. Jack was confused momentarily, but then it dawned on her.

"Him? Ha. So he really was scheming, after all. What a jerk."

The guilty expression on Miranda's face gave way to righteous indignation again.

"It doesn't matter how I know! It's still true. Why did you do all that shit? Vandalism, theft, assault..."

"So I fucked up massively! And I paid for it. What do you want me to say?"

Miranda just kept staring at her, blue eyes narrowed and accusatory.

Jack shook her head, trying hard not to yell at her.

"Alright, let's get this straight. I don't owe you an explanation for anything. I've put that shit behind me. I'm trying really hard to make things work. But don't you dare lecture me! You have no idea, princess, not a fucking clue!" She couldn't help raising her voice, though.

Miranda crossed her arms in front of her chest and gave her a hard look.

"Having had a hard childhood is your go-to excuse for everything, isn't it? You just really like feeling sorry for yourself, don't you?"

"Fuck you! I don't have to listen to this, coming from little Miss Daddy-Issues. Shit, you can be such a bitch."

"Well, fuck you, too, Jack!" Miranda hissed.

"You know what, just get the hell out of here, I'm so done talking to you."

Miranda just shrugged.

"Yeah, well, maybe this was a mistake," she said coldly, before turning away and walking out. Jack slammed the door behind her, pounded her fist hard against it, then sank forward, forehead against the cold wood. For fuck's sake, why couldn't anything ever just work out?

. . . . .

On her way home – not that she wanted to go home, not really, but what choice did she have? – Miranda wondered what made her angrier – the shit Jack had done, or the fact that she hadn't told her. Still didn't trust her, after everything. If Jack had told her – well, she didn't know if it would have made anything better. But at least her father wouldn't have had a reason to gloat.

And that thought made her want to scream. Everything was still about him. Everything was always about him. She'd been such a fool to think otherwise. And he'd been right, after all. He'd never let that one go, that much she knew.

. . . . .

"No, Jane." She was too tired to manage more than mild irritation at the sight of the other girl. And her goofy smile.

"You're not your usual sunny self. What's going on?"

"Leave me alone."

Jane's cocky expression vanished.

"Fine," she said, reluctantly. "I'll leave you be. But you're looking seriously unhappy. So if you need to talk – call me. Come by. Call Liara."

Miranda shook her head.

"I'll be fine on my own. I've always been."

Jane gave her a very skeptical look, but shrugged and walked off to join her usual group of friends who were sitting a few tables away. Jack wasn't anywhere to be seen. In fact, Miranda hadn't seen her all day. Not that she wanted to. Or maybe she did. She honestly didn't know. All she knew was that she felt miserable.

With a sigh, Miranda pushed her tray away. She wasn't hungry, anyway.

. . . . .

Jane gazed out of the window and sighed deeply.

"What's wrong, honey? Do you miss Liara? You've barely touched your food. Are you feeling well?"

She blinked and turned to her mom. Then smiled ruefully and turned her attention back to her dinner.

"I always miss Liara, but that's not it. This is good chili, by the way! I'm just distracted, is all."

"Thanks, dear. What's distracting you? Is it school? You've been doing so much better ever since Liara has been helping you."

"Nah, school is great!" She waved her fork, sending splatters all over the table, cringing at the mess. "Sorry."

Her mom gave her an ever so slightly resigned smile and handed her a paper towel.

"It's just that I know... people... who have issues with each other that could probably be easily resolved if they'd only let me help them!"

Hannah rubbed her forehead.

"But they don't want you to help." It was not even a question - she knew her daughter too well. Jane could never stay out of other people's problems. It was both her most endearing and most annoying trait.

"They don't realize they want me to help them!" Jane muttered grumpily.

"You can't help everyone, Jane."

"Why not?" She heaved another sigh. "It just went so well and then they went and fu... botched it. It's like they don't want to be happy."

Hannah frowned.

"Why don't you tell me the entire story, dear?"


	13. Chapter 13

Jack dragged on her cigarette, tried to blow smoke rings, but somehow she'd never gotten the hang of that. Never quite like the cool guys. Groaned as she saw Jane and her little friends leave the school, walking into her direction. She looked the other way, decidedly so, but part of her knew that it wouldn't stop Jane Shepard. And sure enough she left her friends standing by the school gates and sauntered over to Jack, who was watching her out of the corner of her eye.

"Hey, I haven't seen you all week!"

Goddamn fucking perkiness personified. Jack rolled her eyes.

"Did it occur to you that that might have been by design?" Jack turned to look at her, very reluctantly.

"Oh, don't be like that!" Jane whined.

"I don't want to talk, okay?"

"Now you sound exactly like your 'it's complicated' girlfriend."

Jane jumped back as Jack tried to kick her, losing her balance a little and staggering backwards.

"Fuck off!" Jack hissed.

Jane didn't look particularly impressed, just raised her eyebrows and asked:

"What happened this time?"

There was something about her persistence that made Jack almost feel something like respect for her, not that she'd ever admit it. She snorted.

"Why do you even care?" she asked after a moment of silence, dropping her cigarette to the ground. Pushed her hands deep down into the pockets of her jeans and glared at Jane.

"You're my friends and..."

"Are we? Since when?"

That made Jane just look like a kicked puppy.

"And there is no us. The entire thing was fucking stupid. Shouldn't have listened to you, shouldn't have... ugh. I'm an idiot."

"You do want to talk about it! Come on. We're going out for ice cream, join us!"

Most other people would have cringed under Jack's glare, but not her.

"You don't have to eat any if you're afraid it'll ruin your reputation."

"Oh, shut up. I have to get to work, anyway."

"Oh!" Jane smiled at that. "What do you do?"

"None of your fucking business," Jack muttered.

"I've been looking for a job, to save up a little more for college."

"What exactly was it about me that gave you the impression that I give a damn? Tell me, so I can avoid it in the future."

Jane sighed.

"We could hang out another time. If you want to talk. You have my number."

"Yeah, sure." Jack rolled her eyes again for emphasis.

With one last exasperated sigh, Jane shrugged and walked off again.

. . . . .

"Why does it even matter that much to you, Jane? Let it go."

There was a hint of impatience in Tali's voice. Jane raked her fingers through her hair.

"If I only knew what they've been fighting over..."

Liara had talked to Miranda some, but Miranda had point-blank refused to acknowledge that anything was wrong at all, and then gotten slightly cranky and threatened not to talk to Liara anymore if she was only talking to her so she could spy for Jane.

Tali played with the straw in her milkshake, then gave a shrug.

"Maybe they are better off this way. I can't imagine fighting all the time with the person you're into. Teasing, okay. But all that drama? And what do they have in common? You need to build a relationship on a solid base of shared interests."

A frown. Then Jane shook her head.

"I'm sorry. I'm a little obsessed, you're right, I should let it go. None of my effing business. Sorry. Let's talk about something else. Anything interesting going on with you?"

Tali turned slightly red and grinned sheepishly.

"I've asked Garrus out."

"What?! When did that happen? Why did I not hear anything about that until now?"

"Because you've been too distracted by your little vicarious drama?"

Jane couldn't believe Tali had been holding back so long.

"Man... I feel like I'm a terrible friend. How did it go?"

Tali grinned even more broadly.

"Well, he asked if he could borrow my calculator, and I asked what I'd get in return, and then he started stammering a lot. In the end we decided to see a movie together. Don't know which movie, yet, though. Our tastes don't quite match, I'm afraid."

Jane beamed at her and then almost knocked over her bowl of ice cream.

"That is so cool!"

They were halfway through a detailed analysis of what movies to consider, when Jane felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She took it out and had a look, assuming it was a message from Liara.

"What's wrong?" Tali asked, as Jane kept blinking at the screen.

"Nothing. Well. Just unexpected. Jack asks if she can come over tonight."

"Huh. Does it say anything else?"

"Nope."

"Well, you did offer, didn't you?"

"I sure did."

. . . . .

It had been the kind of day that just felt as if you were wading through mud. Slow, hard and unnecessarily cumbersome, but you kept going, anyway. Miranda had been looking forward to visiting Ori again, but Ori had had a bad day, too. It had featured a lot of yelling and crying and clinging to her mom, and using 'no' as the default answer to everything. It had been frustrating to the point where Miranda just wanted to leave again.

She didn't want to think about Jack. But she never stopped thinking about her. Since she didn't want to spend more time at home than she absolutely had to, she sat in the library a lot, tried to study, but found herself staring out of the window too much, not even pretending that she didn't hope for a glimpse of Jack. Her stomach lurching every time she actually saw her standing outside, smoking like it was no one's business, as usual. Watched her trying to kick Jane when she inevitably tried to pry, after Miranda had refused to tell Liara anything.

Not that she hadn't been tempted to vent all her frustration, but she was just so tired of people telling her what was best for her, and she had no doubt Jane would have done exactly that if Liara had told her what had been going on.

Miranda buried her face in her hands.

She hadn't expected she'd miss Jack like that. Oh, she still thought she had been right to demand an explanation. But maybe, just maybe, she shouldn't have exploded like that. And why exactly had she felt so... betrayed?

Jack hadn't wanted to talk about her past. Miranda had tried to be understanding, but she had a hard time dealing with things not being neatly within her control. That's what it felt like. Not knowing made her feel so out of her depths with Jack. And she hadn't imagined that kind of thing lurking in Jack's past. It was difficult to reconcile her impression of Jack with it. It was all just a huge mess in her head, and she wanted to do something about it, but after their fight – she didn't know how to even begin making up. No one had ever been important enough to her to make her feel guilty like that, even though she felt she was in the right.

. . . . .

Jack kept going back and forth on this thing ever since Jane had texted her back that she could come over for dinner if she wanted.

She had written the message in a moment of weakness. It was hard to admit, but she actually felt like talking about shit. She'd always enjoyed being alone, but this was different. Lonely. Before Miranda she hadn't even known that difference. Fuck, why was she so pathetic?

But in the end, when she left work, Jack didn't go home, but made her way over to Jane's place.

"I didn't think you'd actually come here."

"Me neither," Jack replied, feeling oddly self-conscious as she stepped past Jane into the apartment, and quickly bent down to untie her boots.

"Are you hungry? I've made shepherd's pie – it's a family joke," Jane added quickly.

Jack cocked an eyebrow.

"Seriously?"

"It's the only proper recipe I know. It is good food, though! And I'm like one eighth Irish. One sixteenth?" She raised her hand and counted on her fingers. "One eighth."

Jack just shook her head.

"Yeah, whatever, food sounds good."

She followed Jane into the kitchen, looking around in disbelief.

Jane rubbed the back of her head sheepishly.

"I made a mess. It's okay as long as I straighten things up before mom gets home. You can help me later, how about it?"

"Well, shit," Jack muttered, making Jane laugh.

"You don't have to." She motioned towards the table. "Chairs should be clean. Mostly. Better check before you sit down, though."

Jack sat down and watched Jane bustle.

"Hey... thanks," she said lowly after a moment.

"It's no big deal," Jane said over her shoulder, then carried the dishes over. "So..." she said as she sat down, too.

Jack quickly took her fork and busied herself with the slightly gooey mashed potatoes.

"Wait a sec, in this household we pray before we eat!"

Jack raised her eyes sharply, only to see Jane snort with laughter.

"Oh, the expression on your face was priceless!"

"Fuck you, you're horrible!"

Jane grinned.

"Yeah, but you kinda sorta seem to like me, or you wouldn't be here."

"Well, there is nobody else!" It burst out of Jack before she could stop herself. The look Jane gave her was far too understanding all of a sudden. Jack looked away.

"Okay," Jane said softly. "Sorry. I won't make fun of you anymore. Promise."

"Shit," Jack just muttered.

"Food first, then talk?"

Jack rubbed her eyes, then nodded slowly.


	14. Chapter 14

Jane's room was small and very cluttered. Jack hadn't been in there before on either of her visits. She took in the walls plastered with posters of athletes she didn't know and bands she might have sneered at if she hadn't decided to go easy on Jane for the time being. This was a kind of favour the other girl was doing her, after all.

She sat down on a threadbare purple couch, sinking in further than she'd expected. Jane watched her with an unusually serious look on her face.

"So, you two argued?" she asked gingerly. "What about?"

That was the exact thing Jack didn't want to talk about. She grimaced.

"There's shit in my past I didn't tell her about, but she found out because her dad's an ass who hates me," she said in a rush.

Jane merely cocked her eyebrows a little.

"What kind of shit are we talking about?"

Jack rubbed her forehead.

"Maybe this was a bad idea..."

"How can I help if I don't know what's going on?"

"I don't need your help for fuck's sake! I'm not a charity case, this is not for you to fix!"

Jane raised her hands placatingly.

"Okay, alright. Sorry. But what exactly do you want from me, then?"

Jack huffed.

"Maybe all I want is for you to listen, okay?"

The other girl nodded slowly.

"I'm listening."

Jack took a deep breath.

"My criminal record, apparently. Petty crime. Miss Perfect can't deal with that. Which is part of the reason why I didn't tell her in the first place."

Jane hummed thoughtfully. If she found the information about Jack's past in any way troubling, she was hiding it pretty well.

"I can see how that could be kind of a big deal for her."

"Yeah I can see that too, thanks a bunch."

"So she broke up with you?"

"There was a lot of yelling and I told her to get lost and she said it was a mistake or something and left..."

"And you haven't talked since then?"

Jack just shrugged.

"As far as I know, she's still upset. What am I to say? Sorry I'm not perfect?" She leaned back into the couch cushions with a sigh. "There's nothing I can do about my past. I've dealt with that shit, I've moved past it, it's not the thing that should define me."

She stared at the ceiling for a while. Jane was silent, and Jack had the strange urge to just keep talking.

"I mean, what does she want from me? I shouldn't have started the entire thing... I don't even know why I did. She was just so... You know that feeling when you see someone and you get excited just because they exist? Ah, fuck..."

Jane gave her a small smile.

"Yeah, I know that feeling."

"I don't even know if she's angry because of that shit, or because I didn't tell her when she asked about my past..."

"Both?" Jane suggested.

"That's not helping!"

"You didn't want me to help."

"Well, it's not listening, either," Jack growled.

Jane laughed at that.

A door slammed.

"Jane? I'm home!"

"Oh, that's my mom." Jane raised her voice. "I'm in my room! I have a friend over."

"Maybe I should leave."

"What? No. Why? We've hardly talked."

Jack snorted.

"Ha. I haven't talked that much with anyone but... her in ages."

Jane gave her a puzzled look.

"You don't have to leave... but if you insist, I can drive you."

"I don't know if I want you to know where I live. I'll never have another quiet minute."

Jane just waved dismissively.

"Oh, don't be like that. Come on, I'll drive."

As Jack stepped into the hallway, Jane's mom was still standing there. She looked a lot like her daughter, but with very curly hair. She gave Jack a look that was very reminiscent of Jane.

"Hey there!"

"Mom, that's Jack."

Jack awkwardly shook the hand Jane's mom held out to her.

"Just call me Hannah, dear. Are you leaving already?"

"Uhm..."

"I'm just driving Jack home, I'll be back in twenty or so."

"Be careful."

Jane rolled her eyes.

"Always, mom."

"Nice to meet you, Jack."

"Uhm, yeah, you too," Jack muttered, wishing for once for a pair of shoes that didn't take forever to put on.

"Nice boots," Jane's mom said.

"Ugh, mom," Jane muttered under her breath.

"Your mom seems alright."

Jane nodded slowly.

"Yeah, I guess she is. Do I turn right here?"

Jack peered through the windshield.

"Yeah."

"Sometimes she involves herself too much in things, though."

Jack gaped at her.

"Really? And that bothers you? You? Are you fucking kidding me?"

For a moment, Jane turned to her and gave her a quizzical look.

"Why?"

"Nothing. That's it, that's where I live. Don't you dare drop by unexpectedly. I mean it."

"I won't. Gee!"

"Good."

Jack turned to open the door.

"You should talk to her, you know? For what it's worth. I think you're both unhappy with the way things are right now."

Jack didn't say anything for a moment.

"Thanks. For the food and... everything," she muttered, then opened the door.

"You're welcome."

. . . . .

She didn't know what to do with herself. That was new. Usually she cherished her sparse free time. Friday nights had always been a refuge of sorts. But Miranda just didn't care for anything tonight. She read the same passage half a dozen times, not taking in a single word, before she put the book away. When she picked up her violin, less out of an actual desire to play and more out of a need to do something, anything with which she could occupy herself, her fingers collectively felt like they were one joint too short. And it made her think of Jack, who'd said she wanted to hear her play, but never actually had. Everything lead her thoughts back to Jack, to be honest.

So she found herself calling Liara. Even as she did so, part of her hoped she wouldn't answer. But she did.

"Hey!" A single syllable, but she could already hear that Liara was smiling. Too nice. Nothing Miranda had ever done warranted genuine kindness and concern like that. But Liara didn't think that way.

"Hey."

"You sound down."

"I..." _I miss her._ "It's been an odd day. I can't really concentrate on anything."

Liara was silent for a while. Then Miranda heard a faint sigh.

"It's impossible to have this conversation without talking about Jack, you must know that."

Miranda bit her lower lip.

"You can't tell Jane anything. Please don't. She gets so..."

"Forceful?"

"An utter and total pain in the ass."

She was glad it made Liara laugh.

"I can keep secrets."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

So Miranda told her everything, words just spilling out of her, as she tried to keep her voice under control. It was easier to do this over the phone, without having Liara look at her. She didn't like things getting to her like that, and she didn't like people knowing. Then again, Liara had seen her break down, and she'd been sweet about it. More than that; she'd actually helped.

"It is a lot to stomach," Liara replied diplomatically once Miranda was done talking.

"But you're disagreeing with something here, don't you?"

"What is it that upsets you most about it?"

Miranda opened her mouth to reply, then shut it again. Then she thought for a moment. The truth was not easy to acknowledge.

"What if he's right? If he's right about Jack, he may just as well be right about everything else. What if my judgement is really that poor? Maybe it were better if I..."

"Do you really believe that?"

Miranda wanted to scream in frustration.

"No! Maybe. I don't know! Why couldn't she just tell me? What does it say about us, about me, that she doesn't trust me? I could have dealt with it if she'd told me. It would have shocked me, but not... not like that. Not with him gloating and radiating 'I told you so'. And dammit, I hate how this is all about my father. Ugh. Part of me knows he's playing me, but I can't really tell if that's wrong, anymore."

Liara was silent for a moment, then she said tentatively:

"Can't you imagine that she may be intimidated by you? It has to be hard to measure up to you in her place."

Miranda frowned.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you are in two very different places. Perhaps she didn't tell you because she was afraid she wouldn't be good enough for you."

"Nonsense. She knows who she is. She's more confident than that."

"You know her better than I do," Liara conceded, but did not actually sound very convinced.

"She wouldn't be intimidated by me!" Miranda protested, but she wasn't sure about it anymore, all of a sudden. After all, hadn't she asked if Miranda only brought her home to piss off her dad? Maybe that had been the same insecurity, and she'd interpreted it as distrust?

"Miranda? Are you still there?"

"I'm sorry for bothering you, I should just... I think I'll try to go to bed early. Good night."

"Miranda, wai..."

She just hung up. It made her feel like a jerk, Liara was always so patient and understanding, but she couldn't talk about this anymore. There were too many thoughts inside her head all of a sudden, and she needed to mull things over. She'd apologize to Liara another time.

Miranda muted her phone, then lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling.

She awoke still lying fully dressed on her bed, throat dry and her head hurting. She groped for her phone, to look at the time – it was just past midnight. And she had three missed calls. Two, expectedly, from Liara. One from Jack. Miranda cursed, her throat constricting, then she noticed Jack had called less than ten minutes ago.

She hesitated for a moment, but then called Jack back. It rang forever, until Jack eventually said "Hi" very softly, and Miranda's heart skipped a beat at the mere sound of her voice.

"You called me?"

"Yeah, I... I wanted to talk. Fuck, that sounds like..."

"We are talking," Miranda replied.

"No, in person. I'm still near your place. By that playground?"

Miranda blinked.

"What?" She rubbed her eyes, trying to think.

"Can you come down? Please."

The way Jack said it made her heart ache.

"Okay, I'll try to sneak out."


	15. Chapter 15

Miranda was still too sleep-addled to figure out how to proceed. She just grabbed a cardigan she only ever wore at home and made her way into the bathroom, where she stared at her pale face for a moment, splashed some cold water on it, then brushed her hair briefly. It had to do.

Sneaking out was easier than she'd anticipated. It seemed her father had gone to bed already. She didn't turn on the lights on her way down, missing the last step and almost crashing to the ground, if she hadn't managed to hold on to the banister.

It was colder outside than she'd expected, but at least that made her feel a little more awake. She wrapped her arms around herself and walked over to the playground. Jack was nowhere to be seen at first, but then she spotted her lurking between the trees on the other side of the playground.

"What are you doing here? If the security guards had caught you sneaking around..."

Jack had looked slightly hopeful as she'd approached, but her face sank at that. Miranda wanted to bite her tongue. Not the kindest greeting. Not quite fair. And she wasn't even angry anymore. Just tired and genuinely worried and at a loss for what to say.

She stopped a few feet from Jack, neither of them saying anything for a moment.

"Did you walk all the way here in the middle of the night?"

"I did."

"Why?"

Jack was tense, her expression guarded, hands buried in the pockets of her leather jacket. The silence between them stretched, grew unbearable.

"Do you still think it was a mistake?" Jack asked eventually, in a surprisingly small voice.

Miranda took a deep breath, shook her head.

"I didn't mean it when I said that. I was angry, I wanted to hurt you."

"Are you still angry?"

Miranda folded her arms in front of her chest and looked at Jack, her eyes almost black in the darkness.

"Not really," she admitted after a moment. "But why couldn't you just tell me?"

Jack gave her an exasperated look.

"This isn't so easy, okay? It just isn't. I know I fucked up massively. I haven't talked to anyone about all that shit, not outside stupid counselling, in any case. And to you of all people?"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Miranda frowned at her. Jack dropped her gaze and shrugged uncomfortably.

"Look at you. Look around. I can't compete with any of this even at the best of times. It's not even that I feel I can't live up to your expectations – it's like I've already failed to do that."

"But that's never been the issue!" Miranda protested wearily, feeling more frustrated by the second.

"Are you sure about that?"

Jack looked about as miserable as she felt.

"Your dad thinks I'm trash. You'd have liked to prove him wrong, but I failed you there. I am not..."

Miranda's hands clenched into fists.

"All I want is for you to trust me! I don't care what he thinks, did I not prove that?" She sighed. "And I don't have to prove him wrong. You're not trash. I know that. That's enough."

Jack raised her head again.

"You do?"

Miranda took a step closer. She wanted to touch Jack, just to make sure this wasn't some strange dream, her subconscious playing tricks on her. She ached to just reach out and take her hand.

"Yes. I don't quite understand how you of all people could have gotten it into her head that you're not good enough for anything, but if that's why you didn't tell me, I can live with that. I can try to understand."

"It's not just that, you know? I really don't want it to define me. I want you to see more than that when you look at me."

They looked at each other.

"That shit is in my past. I can't change it. But it won't happen again, if you're worried about that. I mean, I try not to get into fights, I really do, but it doesn't always work. But everything else is under control. I'm not going to be the bad influence your dad thinks I'll be..."

"Oh, shut up." Miranda took a quick step forward and hugged Jack to her. "It's okay."

Jack was rigid in her arms for a moment, but then she eased into the embrace, put her arms around Miranda and held her close.

"Fuck, I missed you."

"Me, too."

Jack pressed her face into the crook of Miranda's neck, exhaling deeply.

"I like that thing you're wearing," she muttered a moment later. "Cute bunnies."

"Seriously Jack, shut up."

"You should wear it to school."

"I'm warning you."

Jack just pulled her closer.

"So we can do this after all?"

"If you stop making fun of my clothes," Miranda muttered, stroking Jack's neck, smiling to herself.

"Well, alright." Jack lifted her head, Miranda's smile the most beautiful sight in the world. Cold fingertips grazing her cheek, before Miranda leaned forward and kissed her ever so lightly.

"I'd ask you to come back with me, but..."

Miranda gave a small, apologetic shrug. Jack just nodded

"I know. Your dad."

"Yeah."

"It's okay."

"No, it really isn't. " Miranda sighed, but wrapped her arms around Jack waist again and pulled her in for another kiss. "I missed this, too."

"Your hands are really cold," Jack muttered.

"That's why I put them there."

"Oh? I hadn't thought that was the reason..."

"That's why you wear trousers that large, right? For me to have better access?"

Jack grinned.

"Yeah, that's the only reason, baby."

"'Baby'?" Miranda asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Not okay?"

"I wouldn't let a guy call me that. But coming from you... it's kinda cute."

"I'm totally honored."

Miranda smiled and pushed her hands a little deeper below the waistband of Jack's jeans.

"As you should be."

Jack rolled her eyes, then frowned.

"But seriously, are you cold?"

"A little. Warm me up?" Miranda smirked at her.

"Wouldn't want those security guards catching us."

"Always a catch." She removed her hands very reluctantly from Jack's hips. "Walk with me for a while?"

They didn't exactly hold hands, but walked close enough for them to touch now and then.

"That was a horrible week."

"Tell me about it! I was so desperate, somehow I had dinner with Jane tonight."

Miranda stopped and turned to Jack, who looked a little embarrassed.

"Somehow, huh?" she asked with a grin.

"It just sort of happened," Jack muttered.

"Do I have to be worried?" Miranda winked at her.

"Yeah, right."

"You didn't look too friendly when you tried to kick her."

Jack frowned.

"Were you watching?"

It was Miranda's turn to look embarrassed.

"I have a perfect view of your favorite smoking place from the library."

Jack huffed.

"I never noticed."

"It hurt to see you."

"Fuck." Jack grabbed her hand at last, threaded her own fingers through Miranda's. "Let's not be this stupid again, okay?"

Miranda looked down at their entwined hands and nodded slowly.

"I'd like to try, at least."

. . . . .

Miranda was slowly regretting her decision to sit down at Jane's table for lunch break on Monday. She'd been in a really good mood after the weekend, but the smug smile on the other girl's face was hard to bear. She was hoping Jack would drop by soon. She kept looking around for her, but then turned and snapped at Jane:

"Doesn't it bother Liara that your happiness depends largely on other people's relationships?"

"No, she's very understanding." Jane couldn't stop grinning, even as Miranda turned away, clicking her tongue. "Oh, come on. You're both so happy again, that's just really nice. And you sat down here for a reason, didn't you?"

"To eat lunch? It's the main purpose of this place, after all."

Jane snorted.

"I thought that was humiliation, increasing people's social anxiety and food poisoning."

Miranda fought back a smile.

"Well, I certainly didn't sit down here in order for you to pry into my private life."

Jane pulled a face.

"That's a shame, because I have questions."

"Jane."

The absence of Jane's goofy grin suddenly bothered her a lot more than the grin ever had.

"Okay, here's the deal. I know it's none of my business, strictly speaking. But you know what bothers me about the entire story?"

Miranda busied herself with the overdone pasta on her plate.

"I can't wait for you to tell me."

"How did your dad come by Jack's files? He can't have obtained them legally, can he?"

Miranda dropped her fork again and closed her eyes.

"You think I don't know that? What do you want me to do about it? And who told you, anyway? Jack or Liara?"

Jane rubbed her forehead.

"It really doesn't matter. And I don't want you to do anything, I'm just worried about your dad."

"Yeah, welcome to my life!"

"Does he know it hasn't worked?"

"I don't want to talk to you about my father."

"Is that a no?"

Miranda glared at her.

"We aren't exactly talking at the moment, if you must know," she said through gritted teeth.

"Great, you pissed her off already!"

Jack let herself fall onto the seat next to Miranda.

"What did she do now?"

Miranda put her hand on top of Jack's knee beneath the table and stroked it lightly.

"Nothing, just been her usual self," she replied calmly, but shot Jane a warning glance to drop the subject.

"She can be alright, you know?" Jack said lightly, her own hand moving atop Miranda's.

Jane frowned, but didn't say anything else on the subject, just drew her own conclusions.


	16. Chapter 16

Miranda was slowly getting used the odd little café that refused to call itself a coffee shop, even though she still felt like she wasn't exactly fitting in. And she couldn't quite help picturing someone getting up on that stage for a dramatic performance of _Howl_ every time she looked at it.

But it had Jack. That was all that mattered. And the coffee was good. It wasn't too bad, spending her Saturday afternoon here, reading and doing some homework, while Jack worked. Even though she got distracted a lot, just by watching Jack. And the occasional small touch and smile when she passed by Miranda's table. Towards the end of Jack's shift, she got a little impatient, though. All she wanted was for Jack to finally take her home. She was relieved when Jack hung up her apron and came over with a smile.

"Done!" She pulled her to her feet and kissed her quickly. "Let's go."

"Looks like it's going to rain." Miranda looked up as they stepped outside, frowning at the steel grey clouds gathering in the distance.

"Then let's go fast!"

They managed roughly half the distance to Jack's place, before the downpour started.

"Ugh, why didn't I bring an umbrella?" Miranda muttered to herself, as they rushed across a street and into a building entrance.

"Wouldn't have rained."

"What?"

"The probability of rain is inversely proportional to the number of people outside who are carrying an umbrella. Everyone knows that."

"You're an idiot."

Jack grinned.

"Maybe I am, but at least I'm an idiot with a girlfriend who'd easily win a wet t-shirt contest."

Miranda peered down at herself, then back to Jack, rolling her eyes a little.

Jack looked around, then drew a step closer and pushed Miranda against the wall, hands working their way beneath Miranda's shirt.

"Jack, what if someone comes by!"

"Want me to stop?" She leaned down and started nibbling at Miranda's throat.

"Shit, no, don't you dare stop."

. . . . .

"I can't believe we did that."

Jack closed the apartment door behind them, then kicked off her boots and smirked at Miranda's still distinctly flushed face.

"Maybe you are a bad influence after all. A really naughty influence."

Jack cackled.

"I'm pretty sure you did most of what you did there without my help."

Miranda shook her head, smiling.

"Oh no, you can take credit for teaching me most of that." She reached out and brushed a strand of wet hair out of Jack's eyes.

"We should get out of these wet clothes!"

"Hey Jack. Did you get caught in the rain?" Liz walked around the corner, then spotted Miranda and beamed at her.

"Hello Miranda! I'm so glad you're back. Jack was in a horrible mood without you."

"Liz..." Jack muttered, grimacing.

Miranda gave her a slightly embarrassed smile.

"Hi."

"That was quite a fight you had. All that yelling."

"It's not going to happen again." Jack looked at Miranda sideways. "I hope."

"Good. I was about to go out."

"Take care."

Miranda started laughing once Liz had left the apartment.

"Oh, I'm starting to like your roommate." She frowned a moment later. "I've been meaning to ask, don't you have another one?"

"Yeah, but she's never around. Spends all her time at her stupid boyfriend's. Which is good, it means she isn't bringing that jerk here anymore. Had to throw him out once... Now, weren't we about to get naked?"

"You're impossible."

"I'm a teenager, I have all these hormones! And so do you, or you wouldn't have had your hand down my pants in public ten minutes ago."

Miranda turned bright red again.

"Oh shut up."

"Make me!"

. . . . .

"I wouldn't mind just staying like this forever."

Jack looked up at Miranda, who was straddling her lap, and smiled, hands slowly caressing her thighs.

"I know. Although, to be honest, I'm starting to get hungry."

Miranda's fingertips traced lazy circles over Jack's stomach.

"Yeah, I noticed."

"Pizza?" Jack asked.

"Do we have to get dressed for that?"

"I'm afraid so." Her hand sneaked between Miranda's legs again. "Though not quite yet."

Miranda smiled and moved against her, her eyes closing.

Half an hour later, they were still reluctant to get up, though.

"Do you have plans for the summer?" Miranda asked suddenly, lifting her head off Jack's shoulder to look at her.

Jack was taken aback briefly, then replied:

"Well, I'm going to work a few more hours at the café. And..."

She blushed, to Miranda's surprise.

"What?"

"Don't laugh."

"I would never!" Miranda protested.

"Yeah, you would!"

"Okay, but I'll try not to."

"I've been asked if I would tutor some kids in maths."

Miranda blinked.

"Oh."

"That look is almost worse than laughter," Jack grumbled.

"No! I'm not... I'm just surprised."

"That I'd be asked to do that?"

Miranda huffed.

"No, dammit. Stop being so awfully defensive. I just didn't know you might have an interest in that, that's all."

"Sorry, I just..."

Miranda stopped her with a kiss.

"It's okay."

"It just seems like a worthwhile thing to do, you know?" She frowned a little. "I was surprised at first, too, to be honest. But my grades are good and apparently I'm approachable enough these days for people to ask me shit like that."

Miranda smiled a little.

"You should go for it. Honestly. And now I'm picturing you as a teacher. That's quite an interesting idea..."

Jack raised her eyebrows.

"We can roleplay that if it turns you on."

"You're horrible!"

"You love that."

She brushed her nose against Jack's, then kissed her.

"I do."

"What about you?" Jack asked quickly, trying to hide her pleased smile. "Summer plans, I mean."

Miranda rolled over onto her back, folded her hands beneath her head and looked up at the ceiling.

"I want to spend a lot of time with you. And Ori. I've been looking for jobs, too. Considered internships."

She bit her lip.

"I'm sensing your dad somewhere in that frown," Jack said lowly, after a moment of silence. It was a topic they'd been avoiding deliberately all week.

It took Miranda a moment to reply. Eventually she said lowly:

"I'm just... getting quite paranoid. You know, thinking about all the ways he could complicate things for me. He has too much influence with everyone who matters. And the thing is, as soon as people realize I'm his daughter, they're going to treat me differently. The moment I give my name, people are going to bend over backwards just to please my father. I don't want preferential treatment because I'm Henry Lawson's daughter, and I don't want to be afraid that he can ruin everything for me with one phone call."

"So he knows we're back together?"

"I haven't exactly told him. We're barely talking to begin with at the moment. But I've been spending nights away from home, I think he can imagine."

Jack let her nails trace a line from Miranda's armpit to her elbow, making her squirm and erupt in goosebumps.

"You don't think he might just... let it go?"

Miranda turned over and caught Jack's hand, locking their fingers together.

"It's a possibility."

"But you don't think so?"

Miranda shrugged.

"I have never gone against his will like this. I can't tell what's going to happen. Maybe he will let it go. I just don't know."

Jack's stomach gave a low rumble.

"Time for pizza?"

"Yes!"

Jack got up, and Miranda followed her, cringing slightly as she did so.

"God, I'm sore," she moaned.

Jack snorted.

"Sorry. But, you know, not really."

. . . . .

Jack woke up early and just lay there for a while, looking at Miranda, contemplating whether or not to wake her. But she was sleeping deeply, and Jack decided against waking her just yet. Instead she slipped out of bed, put on a shirt and padded into the kitchen.

She mumbled something that sounded vaguely like 'morning' at Liz, who was drinking tea while leaving through a magazine, and started making breakfast.

Miranda cracked her eyes open and blinked up at Jack who was leaning above her.

"Morning!"

"You are awfully cheerful this early in the morning."

"Because I'm looking at something awfully hot?"

Miranda smiled at her, stretched a little and let her hand land on Jack's hip, from where it slowly moved beneath her shirt.

"Hmmm... parts of me have a pronounced interest in parts of you, but other parts of me have an equally strong interest in that breakfast smell..." she muttered.

"Breakfast first?" Jack suggested.

"Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?"

She tugged Jack down to kiss her, but rolled out of bed grudgingly when Jack pulled away after a moment.

"I'll stay hot for you, babe, but breakfast won't," Jack said nonchalantly.

Miranda snorted, rummaging through her overnight bag for fresh underwear.

"That must be the worst line I've ever heard."

"Doing my best here."

Miranda stood up and walked over to her.

"You're such a dork. And I'm so into that. Now, before I decide to just drag you back into bed after all, what's for breakfast?"


	17. Chapter 17

Jane was humming lowly to herself as she carried her tray over to Tali and Garrus. She'd been giving them a lot of time to each other lately, trying her best not to feel left out. Those were petty feelings, she didn't want to entertain them.

It would have helped to have Liara around, though. Now that was a thought she only had every five minutes.

"Not long now," she muttered to herself as she put her tray down.

"Jane!"

"Hey you! Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all!" Tali beamed at her and made room for, moving a little closer to Garrus.

"How was your weekend?"

"Oh, quiet," Tali replied. Garrus just blushed and smiled to himself. "What about you?"

"The usual. Chatting with Liara a lot. Helped my mom paint the kitchen. Quiet, all in all."

"Oh look, it's your dramatic friends."

Jane craned her neck, then waved at Jack and Miranda. After a moment of whispering to each other and some eye-rolling, the two of them walked over.

"So glad I brought my own food, what the hell is that stuff?" Jack ogled her tray warily.

"Some sort of stew. I hope."

"Gross."

Jane shrugged and started eating. She was suddenly strangely aware of being surrounded by couples, reminding her with unexpected intensity of Liara's absence. She let her spoon sink.

"Do you guys want to do something this weekend? Liara's visiting, we could all do something coupley."

"Shouldn't coupley things feature just two people?" Jack asked.

"I'd like that!" Tali replied. "What do you have in mind?"

"We could go dancing! I love to dance."

Garrus snorted lowly and Tali nudged him in the side, but grinned.

"Can't. Sorry."

Jack turned to Miranda.

"Why not? Not that I want to, watching her dance kinda hurts, but you have plans already?"

Miranda pursed her lips.

"Yes, I do."

Jane frowned.

"That's too bad. The entire weekend?"

"I'm busy, okay?"

"Doing what?" Jack asked.

"Dammit, Jack, later."

"Well, we'd like to," Tali said quickly.

Jack managed to contain herself, but only until they were out in the hallway.

"So what are your big weekend plans?"

Miranda frowned.

"That was a lie. I have no plans."

"You wanted to be polite? That's not really you."

Miranda gave her the smallest smile, then shook her head.

"No, that's not it."

"What is it, then?"

"It's just... I'm really low on money again." She took a deep breath, then said in a rush: "He said he'd cut me off. I might have a babysitting job, though. Not much success anywhere else I asked for jobs or internships, though. Everyone's cold-shouldering me."

"Oh." Jack stared at her feet.

"I'll manage, though."

"I'm sure you will. But fuck, he's a jerk."

Miranda let her fingers grace Jack's hand, furtively.

"I know." She sighed.

"We could still go out though. I can pay for whatever, and if that's bothering you, you can get back to me whenever you can?"

"You don't want to go out, do you?"

Jack shrugged.

"Not really, but I think you'd like to."

Miranda smiled at her.

"No, I'd rather just stay in with you. We can still dance." She winked, making Jack grin.

"That's a euphemism, right?"

Miranda just raised her eyebrows and smiled.

. . . . .

Jack usually didn't answer the door when the bell rang and she didn't expect anyone. Sometimes Liz would answer it, but when Liz was away, Jack usually just hoped whoever was trying to bother her would leave again. The few people who mattered had her phone number.

But whoever wanted to pester he now was persistent, and eventually Jack cursed, pulled on some pants and reluctantly went to open the door.

"Hello, Jennifer."

Jack's eyes narrowed.

"I fight dirty, you know?"

"Don't worry, I have no intentions whatsoever of getting my hands dirty on you."

"Funny, your daughter can't keep her hands off of me."

He grimaced.

"Crude, though I didn't expect anything else. Fine. I don't like you, you don't like me. This will all be easier if we just acknowledge these facts."

"I've never pretended otherwise." Jack glared at him. "Neither have you. What do you want?"

"How much?"

For a moment, Jack could only stare at him.

"With all due respect, fuck you."

He laughed.

"Come on, everyone has a price. This is what everything in life comes down to, if you take an honest look at it, business transactions. Better to learn that young. I have heard you are an aspiring artist. Care not to be the starving artist you will inevitably become?"

Jack just snorted in disbelief.

"You seriously think you can pull that one off? Just take out your check book and... fucking buy me?"

Her anger was merely met with a sneer.

"You and me both know this will blow over, eventually. Just look at you. You are not, nor will you ever be, a worthy partner for my daughter. Let's be realistic here for a moment. She is being rebellious and you're just a fad about to ruin her life. Why don't you think about it as an incentive to make the inevitable happen faster?"

"Get out."

"You know I am right. Give it a thought. And have a pleasant day."

"Oh, fuck you."

She threw the door shut behind him, then stomped through the flat, obscenities steadily flowing from her lips as she threw herself onto the bed and stared at the wall.

. . . . .

It had been a great evening, but Jane was glad that is was over, too. To be alone with Liara, finally. It seemed like it had been forever since she'd last held her close. Her fingers traced slow circles at the base of Liara's neck, making her sigh.

"Are you happy?" Jane asked.

"More than happy."

She gave Liara a wide smile.

"I'm glad."

Liara stifled a yawn and snuggled up to her.

"I hate being away from you more than anything. Except maybe speaking in public."

Jane chuckled, but then asked:

"Does the idea of college scare you?"

"Not really, no." Liara looked up, then kissed her nose. "And you have nothing to be scared of, either."

"I'm not scared. It's more a mixture of painfully excited and utterly terrified. But you'll be there. I can't stress how much I'm looking forward to living with you."

Liara tilted her head to the side.

"But?"

"You can read me like a book, can't you?"

"Pretty much."

"It feels odd to leave my mom alone. We've had only each other for a long time."

"Won't your mom be glad to have some time to herself? I'm pretty sure mine is already planning what she's going to do with my room once I'm gone."

Jane pulled a face.

"That doesn't bother you?"

Liara just shrugged.

"I love her, but I'm glad to move out."

"Did you argue again?"

"It's not so much arguing and again, it's more like questioning all my decisions and constantly."

"Still not happy with archaeology?"

Liara heaved a sigh.

"She'll never be happy with archaeology. 'Give politics a try!' It's not like I'm not interested, I just don't want to do it for a living, you know?"

The topic came up every once in a while. Jane admired Liara's mom, but she made her feel distinctly intimidated, too. Liara knew what she wanted, though. Jane loved that about her. Then again, there wasn't much she didn't love about Liara.

"I know."

"I think she's finally starting to accept it. But distance might do us both good. Eh. We were talking about your mom, not mine. Sorry."

"She doesn't say anything, and she is happy for me, really, but she just seems sad sometimes, you know?"

"You can come back and visit a lot, it's not that far. And call. Chat."

Liara yawned again.

"Yeah... you're probably right. Hey, are you falling asleep? I had plans..."

Liara chuckled.

"I am. Sorry."

Jane kissed her temple.

"Nah, it's okay. Sweet dreams, love. I'm so glad to have you here."

"Love you, too."

. . . . .

Jack's heart raced as she met Miranda after she was done with work. The smile that greeted her made her insides ache.

"Hey you. Long day? You look pale."

She backed away as Miranda reached for her, and Miranda frowned.

"What is it?"

"We need to talk."

"Oh?"

Jack dug her hands deep into the pockets of her trousers.

"I'm sorry, okay, I'm really sorry, but this isn't working."

Miranda looked utterly confused for a moment, but Jack could positively see it sinking in a second later. She looked away as Miranda's eyes bore into hers.

"What?" she asked lowly.

"I can't do this."

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"It's just... too much, too soon, I can't..."

"You're realizing this now? After everything? Are you kidding me?"

She took a step backwards, folded her arms in front of her chest and shook her head in disbelief. Jack's eyes remained trained on her boots.

"I'm not going to beg, you know?" Miranda said coldly.

"I didn't expect you to." Jack closed her eyes. She couldn't say more. Everything else would have been a concession.

"Fuck you, Jack. Just fuck you."

Miranda turned on the spot and walked away.

With a deep sigh, Jack let herself fall into the grass and just stared up at the low sky for a long time.

. . . . .

Miranda had slammed about every door she'd passed, and wasn't surprised when her father knocked, then entered her room.

"Come to gloat?" Her voice didn't sound like her voice in her ears anymore.

"So this farce is finally over?"

"Leave me alone."

"I'm glad your friend saw reason. We had such a pleasant chat."

Miranda turned to her father, very slowly.

"What did you do?"

He smiled pleasantly.

"Nothing. Just pointed out the reasons why this was a bad idea. Oh, and I offered her generous compensation."

Miranda felt all blood drain from her face. Her hands started shaking.

"You what?"

"Oh, Miranda. This has all been ridiculous to begin with. Just move on without embarrassing yourself any further."

Miranda laughed.

"Oh. Oh, I will move on. You won't believe how I am going to move on."

She got to her feet, crossed the room, pulled a sweater from the wardrobe and stormed past him.

"Miranda, what are you doing now, for heaven's sake?"

"Leaving. Damn, I should have done this much sooner."

"Running away? You're such a child."

She ignored him, until his fingers closed around her upper arm painfully, forcing her to turn around.

"Let go!"

"Be sensible, Miranda. Where would you even go?"

She wrenched her arm away.

"Any place is better than here. Anywhere without you!"

There was no pain. Just the left side of her face numb, tingling slightly. Her lips twitched as she looked up at her father. She'd never been hit before. He looked startled for a moment, but quickly composed himself. Not the slightest trace of regret in his expression.

"Miranda..."

She just turned and ran away.


	18. Chapter 18

She didn't even have her phone on her. Nothing but the clothes she was wearing. Miranda cursed herself; she shouldn't have been that impulsive. Should have planned a little, instead of running out like that.

But she couldn't have spent another minute in there.

She didn't know where to go. It was hard to think straight at the moment. She felt numb. Hollow. It was better than the gut-wrenching pain she'd felt ever since she'd left Jack standing there, looking guilty and miserable. Miranda snorted. Of course Jack had felt guilty. She understood perfectly now. Her hands clenched. She wouldn't cry over this. She wouldn't. Squeezed her eyes shut and took slow, deep breaths, until she felt ever so slightly calmer.

For a while she just wandered around aimlessly. Sat on a park bench for a while, gnawing her lower lip, trying to come up with any alternative. But everything else was too far-fetched, and it was already getting dark, and to top it all it was starting to rain. That just made her think of Jack again, but then everything reminded her of Jack.

Every step she took made her more reluctant. She didn't want to ask this kind of favour, any favour at all, actually, but she had nowhere else to go.

At least she didn't have to explain herself over the intercom. Just as she approached the apartment block, an older lady with a floral pattern umbrella shuffled out of the building, and Miranda slipped inside while the door was still open.

Her fingers trembled as she rang the doorbell. A moment later she could hear steps from inside the apartment and took a quick step back.

"Hello?"

"I... uhm, hello. Is Jane home?"

The woman was obviously Jane's mother, she looked so much like her.

"Oh, I'm afraid not, dear. Jane and Liara left about ten minutes ago."

"Oh." Miranda grimaced. She hadn't even realised that it was unlikely that Jane would be home on a Saturday evening. "I see." She thought for a moment, feeling distinctly uncomfortable under the woman's curious gaze. "You don't happen to know where they went?" she asked eventually.

"No, sorry." She smiled at Miranda, making her feel even more awkward. "You're one of Jane's friends from school? I haven't seen you around before."

"Well, we're not... not technically... that close," Miranda muttered. "I'm Miranda," she added, after a small pause.

Miranda could have sworn her name elicited a small twitch of her lips, quickly stifled.

"She has her phone on her, though. You have her number?"

"No, I mean, yes, but I don't have my phone with me." She ran her fingers through her wet hair, suppressing the urge to heave a sigh.

"Is everything alright, dear? Do you want me to call Jane? Is it urgent?"

"No! No, I should... probably just go."

Jane's mother frowned at her.

"Are you sure you don't want to come in? Until the rain stops, at least? You are drenched."

Miranda wanted to decline, but then she thought better of it. The idea of going back out into the rain was marginally more uncomfortable than spending a little time with Jane's mother.

"If I'm not bothering you?"

"Oh, nonsense! Come on in. I'm Hannah, by the way."

Jane's mother – Hannah, but she just couldn't just call her that – insisted that she put on some of Jane's close in lieu of her wet ones, and then made her hot cocoa, which was actually quite nice. They made small talk, strained on Miranda's part, but Ms Shepard didn't seem to notice, or mind. While they talked about school, mostly, she was constantly wondering what to do next. Nothing else came to mind. She'd thought of Ori's mom briefly, but even if she'd thought she'd be welcome, they weren't in town for the weekend. Jane had been her only hope. Jane loved to help. What she understood under helping, anyway.

Her gaze travelled to the window, where small rivulets of water took odd, meandering paths down the glass.

"Doesn't look like it's going to let up," Jane's mother said, following her eyes. "I could drive you home."

Miranda stiffened.

"No. Thank you, but that's not necessary. Very kind, but I'll be fine."

"Or you could call someone at home, have them pick you up?"

Miranda's lips twitched. _I'd rather drown_, she thought.

Ms Shepard gave her a scrutinizing look, and eventually asked:

"Trouble at home?"

"No!" Miranda gave a laugh that sounded strained even in her own ears. "No," she lied, quickly. "There's just no one at home. See, it's embarrassing, but my father is away on business, and I managed to lock myself out when I took out the trash. Uhm. So I really didn't know what to do, and I thought maybe ask Jane if I could stay..."

"I see."

She was almost sure Jane's mother didn't believe her, but she didn't press the subject, either.

"You should have mentioned it sooner, dear. You can stay the night, of course."

Miranda looked away from the eyes still watching her keenly and muttered her thanks.

"You probably haven't had dinner yet."

She shook her head.

"Something you don't eat?"

. . . . .

She couldn't sleep. It wasn't the couch – well, no, it was the couch, in part – but mostly it was her thoughts, racing from Jack to her father and inevitably back to Jack. It was growing harder to keep back her tears, and she buried her face in the pillow to muffle her sobbing.

Jane and Liara returned at some point, she could hear them in the hallway, but to her relief they didn't enter the living room. She was in no state to explain anything.

She had to face them in the morning, though, after a mostly sleepless night. It wasn't much better, though she felt fairly collected as Jane came in, slowly, balancing two cups of coffee, Liara following a little later.

"Good morning!" Jane said, with astonishingly false cheerfulness that did nothing to mask her confusion.

"Hey," Miranda just muttered.

Jane perched in front of the couch and put the cups on the table, then turned to look at her.

"I made you coffee. So, uhm, my mom said you'd told her you locked yourself out, but she seemed sceptical, and I'm confused here, too, 'cause in that case you'd just have gone to your girlfriend? Who, by the look you're giving me, is not your girlfriend at the moment and I should stop talking now?"

"What happened?" Liara pushed some of the bedding out of the way and sat down next to her on the couch.

Miranda opened her mouth, then closed it again. She'd known she'd be asked that question eventually, and she had spent part of her sleepless night thinking of a reply, but there was a lump in her throat that made it difficult to say anything.

"You need some coffee first? You don't look like you've slept much."

"I honestly think coffee might make me be sick right now," she muttered. "Thanks, though."

Then she pulled her knees up to her chest and buried her face against them, sobbing lowly.

Jane looked over at Liara, expression helpless and slightly pleading. Liara just reached out tentatively, patting Miranda's shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm such a mess."

"It's okay. Really. Take your time."

"I can't go home," she muttered, voice husky. "Not this time. Not after what he did. Not after... bribing Jack to break up with me."

"He did what?" Liara asked.

"And Jack did what?"

Miranda swallowed hard and took a few trembling breaths.

"She broke up with me. Just like that. Said it was too much to handle, or something like that, I don't... And then I get home and he tells me that he did that. Things had just been... good, you know?"

Jane clicked her tongue.

"I can't believe she would have done that."

"Well, maybe you don't know her all that well. I sure as hell didn't."

"Okay, so..." Jane ran her hand through her hair. "Is it okay if I tell my mom? She'd totally understand and I'm sure she'd be cool with you staying for a while. Until we've figured all that stuff out?"

For a moment, Miranda wanted to protest that 'we' in Jane's last sentence, but then she just shrugged, hugging her knees.

"Well, things can't get any worse. God, I hope they can't."

She found it hard to look at Ms Shepard as Jane explained, with her occasional help. She didn't know what to expect.

"I'm sorry I lied to you," she muttered.

"Don't worry about it. You have enough on your plate as it is. You can stay here for the moment, but don't you think maybe I should talk to your dad?"

"If you think that's necessary," Miranda replied diplomatically, even though the thought made her stomach turn. But she gave her the number, anyway.

. . . . .

"Wow, I don't think I've ever seen your mom angry before."

Jane nodded.

"Certainly not this angry. I can't remember hearing her use that kind of language." She turned to Miranda. "She doesn't usually swear like that."

It only made Miranda frown more.

"Should she be handling knives right now?" Liara asked, looking over her shoulder through the kitchen door, where Jane's mother was angrily chopping vegetables.

Jane laughed.

"Yeah, just don't get too close."

"I wonder what he said," Miranda muttered absent-mindedly. "He can usually charm his way out of arguments."

"My mom's tougher than she might look, though!" Jane said proudly. "I can find out what he said later, once she's calmed down. In any case, I think this pretty much means you'll be staying with us for a while."

"Thank you. I mean it, I'm really grateful."

"Hey, no problem. By the way, do you want me to talk to Jack?"

"God, no. What for?"

Jane shrugged.

"I could tell her that I think what she did was morally despicable."

"You'd just get beat up. And I'm sure she knows that already." Miranda closed her eyes, but the kind of thing didn't help against an image that was inside your head. The way Jack had looked. The way she hadn't looked at her. She couldn't get that out of her head.

"Might be worth it, though," Jane said lowly.

Liara just shook her head a little.

"Why don't we do something nice to distract you, before I'll have to leave again?"

"Oh." Miranda grimaced. "I've been taking up all your time together, haven't I?"

"No, not at all!" Liara protested quickly.

"It was a just a Sunday morning, they're the worst," Jane added, almost making Miranda smile.

"You know what, I'm too tired for anything but trying to catch some more sleep. You two go and have quality time together. Please?"

Jane and Liara looked at each other.

"Are you sure?" Liara asked.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." She yawned pointedly, and the two of them were eventually persuaded to leave her alone.

Alone with thoughts of Jack she couldn't fight, no matter how hard she tried.


	19. Chapter 19

Jack kept herself busy. At her job, at school, she even took on tutoring a few kids already, nasty little brats the made her want to throw stuff at them a lot, but they started paying attention once she'd shouted at them for a while. And she had to work to keep her grades, too. There'd been some slack lately, not without reason. A reason with blue eyes and perfect tits and a smile that took you by surprise, made your heart ache. Who'd held her head up high as she'd walked away from Jack.

It was good to have all that work to do. Distracting. But there were lonely, empty moments in which Miranda's absence, and the thought that it was a permanent state, made her ache all over. But she'd made her decision, and she kept telling herself that she had no right whatsoever to wallow in self-pity. Not that it helped much. But it was better for both of them, in the long run.

Jack closed her eyes and leant her forehead against the cool glass of the kitchen window. She'd been staring out at the rain without actually seeing anything for a while now, her thoughts wandering off to where she didn't want them to be.

She had no future to offer Miranda. No perspective. Nothing. Nothing but her own fucked-up issues. Miranda deserved better than that.

"Tea?"

She turned abruptly to Liz, who'd just walked into the kitchen, looking at her quizzically.

"No."

"Want to join me for dinner?"

"No, Liz, I'm not very hungry."

Her roommate was quiet for a moment, then she said softly:

"I'm sorry you're hurting."

Jack threw her head back in exasperation.

"I am not."

"Of course you are. You were so happy with her. Did you argue again?"

"I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

Liz sighed.

"Okay."

. . . . .

Jane woke up with a dry throat and stumbled into the kitchen for a glass of water. On her way back, she peered into the living room and made out Miranda's outline against the light coming in from a street lamp. She was just sitting there, obviously not asleep. Jane didn't want to be intrusive, but she didn't have it in her to just go back to bed, and instead called her name lowly.

"Jane?"

"Are you okay?" Jane entered the living room, feeling like an intruder, anyway. Miranda turned on the small lamp on the table next to the couch. To Jane's relief she didn't look like she'd cried. Miranda had actually been rather stoic those last days, and Jane wasn't sure if she was coping better than Jane thought she would in her place, or if she was just bottling everything up inside. She had barely batted a lash when her mom had eventually, with a lot of forced calm, summarized her conversation with Miranda's dad. It must have been a lot nastier than what her mom had let on, but what it came down to was that he refused to let Miranda come back unless she apologized, not that Miranda had any intentions of going back whatsoever, and that he wouldn't let her have any of her stuff unless she came back. Jane couldn't believe anyone could be that unpleasant, and she had frankly no idea how Miranda had endured this for so long.

At least her mom had been adamant in her decision to let Miranda stay with them.

"I'm fine. Couldn't really sleep, though."

Jane walked over and let herself fall into the armchair.

"That couch must be uncomfortable. We can change the bedding, you can sleep in my bed, I'll stay here."

"No. Dammit, how do you do that?" Miranda gave her a small, sad smile. "How are you that kind?"

Jane rubbed the back of her head, slightly flustered.

"I'm not trying all that hard, honestly."

"I... I never really had a friend before. I haven't been particularly nice to you and feel kind of lousy about it now."

"Oh." Jane didn't know what to say for a moment, then she shook her head. "It's okay, I am meddlesome. And a little annoying in general."

Miranda opened her mouth to say something, then swallowed and looked down at her hands.

"Thank you." She sounded like she was about to cry, and Jane got up without even thinking about it, sat down next to her and pulled her close. To her surprise, Miranda wrapped her arms around her and hid her face against the crook of her neck and shoulder.

"It's alright if you cry, you know?" Jane said lowly, rubbing Miranda's shoulders.

"No, I'm fine, I just... need a moment."

"Sure."

She stroked her back and shoulders, feeling just a little out of her depths.

"I used to say you're lucky to have Liara, but I just realized that she's very lucky, too," Miranda muttered after a moment, pulling back, not meeting her eyes.

"Heh, thanks," Jane replied.

"Do you miss her?"

"Well, she's only been gone for a few days, but yeah. All the time."

"I envy you two," Miranda said lowly.

"Jack is a fool."

Miranda's face dropped for a moment, then she just shrugged helplessly.

"Maybe it's me. Maybe I'm not easy to love. I know people are intimidated by me, and I don't make much of an effort to please them, perhaps I need to be..."

"No. No, you're not. You don't need to be any different, okay? You're sweet, and smart, and a bit feisty. You know who you are, and if she throws that away, she's an idiot."

"Huh." Miranda looked like she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Jane stroked up and down her bare arm, and Miranda leaned forward again, hugging her.

"I'll be here as long as you need me, okay?" she muttered.

"Thanks."

. . . . .

Jack had gone a while without talking to anyone she didn't have to. It was easy to avoid people, most of the time, but Jane eventually cornered her, even though it took her some time, considering she was incapable of keeping her rather large nose out of other people's business.

"Come to lecture me? Talk things over? Try and fix this? Because you can't."

"No, I wasn't going to. What you did is pretty despicable, actually. You're in this alone."

Jack frowned, then shook her head.

"Okay, I'm despicable. Then what do you want?"

"Miranda said you still had some of her stuff. She didn't want to talk to you, though."

There was a book Miranda had leant her, some other stuff, jewelry, a lipstick, small things she'd turn over in her hands. And a shirt Miranda had forgotten. She had no right to them, but the thought of giving them back made Jack clenched her teeth.

"Yeah, whatever, I'll bring it with me tomorrow. Didn't have to leave her shit at my place..."

Jane clicked her tongue.

"It's not like she could have expected that you'd let yourself be bribed into breaking up with her."

For a moment, Jack's heart seemed to plummet. Things fell into place all of a sudden, and she couldn't stop herself from muttering:

"She really thinks that?"

Jane frowned at her.

"What?"

"Nothing," Jack said quickly. "Yes, bribed. Despicable. Just leave me the fuck alone, okay?"

"Wait a second!"

But Jack stormed off, her heart hammering in her chest.

"So what!" she yelled, people staring at her. Why did the idea that Miranda thought she'd accepted her dad's money make her feel so awful? She'd broken up with Miranda, it wasn't like there had been anything left to salvage. There was no chance they could ever be friends, not the way she was feeling about her, anyway.

But fuck, Miranda had to hurt at the thought. The betrayal.

It didn't matter, though, Jack told herself. It didn't need clarification. More reason for Miranda to hate her. To get over her fast.

. . . . .

It was late that afternoon that Liz came into her room, startling Jack who was wearing headphones, a necessary measure after too many complaints about her music being too loud.

"There's someone here to see you."

Jack cringed.

"You let them in?"

Liz just shrugged and turned to leave, and Jack got up reluctantly, trudging into the hall, where she cursed as she spotted Jane, standing in the door frame, that awfully self-righteous, determined expression on her face again.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, what are you doing here? Why does everyone suddenly feel the need to visit me at home?"

"Will you let me in? Please?"

"No! You promised you wouldn't come here, and this is none of your business!"

Jane fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, watched Jack for a while, before blurting out:

"But you didn't take the money, did you?"

"I'm going to slam that door into your stupid face, I swear."

"I couldn't believe you would have done that. That didn't seem like you."

"You know fuck all about me!"

Nothing Jack seemed to have any impact on Jane, who just kept talking.

"But he did speak to you, then? About the money? What on earth did he say that made you break up with her? Did he threaten you?"

"Dammit, you think I'd be that much of a pussy?" Jack hissed.

Jane grimaced, but kept pushing.

"Come on now. You don't want me to go back to her with half-truths now, would you?"

Jack glared at her.

"Don't tell her anything. You have no right to do that."

"You don't think she has a right to know the truth? Do you have any idea how bad she has taken this entire thing? To think that her dad could just buy you off like that? She's devastated. What did he tell you?"

Jack closed her eyes.

"That I'm ruining her life," she muttered. "That it won't last, and she'll see that it was all a mistake and then it's going to be too late. And it's true!"

"God!" Jane huffed. "It's her life, why don't you let her decide?"

"Because it's my fucking life, too, which makes it my fucking decision!"

She gave Jack a pained look.

"But you love each other."

"There are more important things in life than love."

"But you didn't take his money!"  
"Of course I didn't take the scumbag's money!"

"Can't you see he's been playing you?"

"That doesn't change the fact that he is right. I am ruining her life."

"No, all you're ruining is his idea if what she's supposed to be."

"You don't get it!" Jack rubbed her forehead tiredly. Fuck, she did not want to have this conversation, it made her feel all twisted up inside. "She's smart and resourceful and she doesn't deserve to be denied the future and opportunities she could have. She can play along, take his money, and some day, when she has the means to sustain herself, she can blow him off."

"If she caves now – and she won't, by the way – she'd just do it again and again, and he'd control more and more of her life. Don't you realize that he'd just blackmail her into submission whenever he doesn't like something she does? How can you think that that's the life she ought to live? She's been sleeping on my couch for a week, goddamnit!"

Jack stared at her.

"She what?"

"Yeah. She doesn't want to go home, and she won't. Doesn't matter whether or not you're with her, she doesn't want to return to him. I get it. You're scared. This is a lot to handle. If it's too much for you, I'm pretty sure she'd understand. But don't do this for her sake, because with you or without you Miri will handle it and she won't go back to her dad."

Jack slumped against the wall and slid down, burying her face in her hands.

"Fuck, this is all my fault."

"It isn't! It would have happened with anyone she'd liked. The problem isn't with you, it's with him! Why do I get the feeling I'm talking to a wall here? You're not doing either of you any favour by telling yourself you're protecting her with this. You're not."

Jane knelt down in front of her, and Jack looked up, not sure if she wanted to punch her or start screaming at her.

"Hey. Stop doing this to her and to yourself."

"I'm an idiot and I fucked up. I always fuck up."

"Everyone fucks up, Jack. Look, I can see that this is hard for you, but you're making it even harder than it is. You should talk to her, you really should, both of you need that."

"I don't..." Jack frowned. "I need to think about this. Just leave me alone for now, okay? And don't talk to her about anything I've said. Please."

Jane sighed.

"Alright." She reached out and patted Jack's shoulder, Jack barely even bothered enough to glare at her for that. "But, you know, consider talking to her about this entire mess, it can't make things worse. Just drop by any time."

Jane stood up and turned to leave, Jack kicking the door shut behind her, then she just sat there for a long time, mulling things over.


	20. Chapter 20

Living with the Shepards was mostly an oddly pleasant experience, but at times Miranda couldn't help the small pangs of envy. She didn't begrudge Jane her happiness, but she wished she'd had even a little of that. Watching Jane and her mom interact made her feel at a loss on occasion, if only because it made her realize what she might have had, under different circumstances.

"You look lost in thought."

Miranda raised her head and smiled half-heartedly at Hannah. She was still trying to figure out how to talk to her, though it had started to feel less awkward recently.

"I was just thinking that I owe you a lot already. I've been asking around for jobs at a couple of shops, I think I might have a good chance of being hired. It wouldn't be much, but it might cover food and..."

"Don't worry so much about that." Hannah patted her shoulder. "You're not the burden you think you are."

"I'm still costing you money." She ran her fingers through her hair. "I just hate being in this situation. Feeling so useless."

"You're welcome here, dear. You've been through enough, don't fret about this. We'll make it work."

Hannah hugged her briefly, and Miranda felt a lump in her throat.

"Thank you so much for everything."

. . . . .

"Hey!"

Miranda looked up from her notes, to find Jane smiling down at her.

"Hey, Jane. Is it that late already? Just a second, then I'll be done."

"Take your time."

She packed her bag – Jane's old bag, actually – and they walked out of the library to Jane's car.

"Is something the matter?" Miranda asked after a few minutes of driving in silence.

Jane raised her eyebrows.

"No?"

"You're not usually that quiet."

Jane turned to look at her briefly, before facing the road again.

"I've just been wondering if you'd heard anything from Jack lately, is all."

Miranda huffed.

"And what if I had?"

"Did you talk to her?"

"What's there to talk about? She sent me a message, a few days ago. Asking if she could see me. I deleted it. I don't know what she wants, and I don't care."

Jane didn't say anything, but Miranda saw her grimace. She was silent for a moment, then muttered:

"I don't want to hear justify anything. There's nothing she could say to make things better."

Still Jane didn't reply. Miranda pursed her lips.

"Okay, what do you know?"

"You should give her a chance. To talk."

"You talked to her, didn't you? What about?"

"I kinda promised not to say anything."

Miranda turned to her abruptly.

"Has that ever stopped you? Honestly, this is not a good time to start respecting other people's boundaries."

"She needs to tell you something important, okay?"

"Ugh, you are so frustrating!"

Jane smiled a little.

"I know. Bear with me?"

Miranda rolled her eyes.

"I don't have much of a choice." She sighed and added quickly: "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way."

Jane stopped the car in front of the building, then turned to her.

"It's okay. Look, I understand that you don't want to talk to her, but maybe talking to her will make things easier. For you. Even if it's only closure. I don't know, I really don't know, but I think it's important for both of you that she tells you what she has to tell you. I know I've been pushy and meddlesome... well, I am. But I hate to see both of you hurting."

"You're awful." Miranda gave her a small smile nevertheless, before she opened the door and stepped out of the car.

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

. . . . .

She'd been nervous all day; she didn't know what to expect. She hadn't seen Miranda in over two weeks, no more than the occasional glimpse in a hallway, anyway. In which case Jack would usually turn on the spot and walk the other way.

For a while she just stood in front of the building, reluctant to ring, to face her. She'd been sleeping badly the last days, she felt like she'd messed up big time. Part of her wanted nothing more than to explain to Miranda, but another part of her just wanted to bolt.

She rang eventually, though, the door buzzing open without anyone answering the intercom. Jack climbed the stairs apprehensively, to find Miranda glowering at her from the top of them. The shadows beneath her eyes made Jack cringe with guilt and worry, even though she realized she probably wasn't even close to being the biggest problem that kept Miranda awake at night. Still it was in good part her fault.

Miranda didn't say a word, just turned and walked into the apartment, Jack following her into the dim hallway, facing her.

"Is anyone else around?" she asked lowly.

"We're alone." Miranda replied coldly, crossing her arms in front of herself. "So? What it is that you have to tell me?" She sounded tired, too.

Jack took a deep breath, then said haltingly:

"I don't know what your dad told you, but I didn't accept his money." She shrugged. "I'm as broke as ever."

Miranda frowned, looked utterly confused for a moment, then shook her head.

"Are you serious?" she said tonelessly.

"He offered, but I didn't take it! I'm not... I can't be bought like that!"

They stood there in silence for a while, looking at each other.

"So why did you end it?"

Jack gnawed on her lower lip.

"He got to me," she admitted lowly. "Said I'd ruin your life. I didn't want to be... I thought it would be easier for you if you didn't have to deal with..."

"Don't I get a say in this at all?" Miranda burst out angrily. "Why is it that everyone gets a shot at deciding what's best for me, except for me?"

Jack hung her head.

"I'm not a little girl who needs protection because she's too delicate to deal with her problems! You could have talked to me!"

"I freaked, okay? I'm a coward."

"You're an idiot," Miranda muttered.

"I just... I didn't want to be... the thing you're going to regret most in your life."

"Dammit, then you're not good at that. Right now, that's exactly what you're doing." Miranda rubbed her eyes tiredly, then huffed. "Okay, come on in. I don't want to shout out here anymore."

Jack took off her boots after a moment's hesitation, and followed Miranda into the living room. Miranda slumped onto the couch, a pile of bedding stacked next to her.

"How are you?" Jack asked lowly as she sat down, too, leaving more space than she actually wanted between them.

"I'm just great," Miranda muttered, making her grimace.

"Sorry."

Miranda sighed.

"I'm fine. Honestly, it could be a lot worse, all things considered. Jane and her mother have been more than supportive."

"So you're not going back home?"

She huffed.

"It's the last thing I'd ever want to do. Hannah – Jane's mother – says it's okay if I stay here for my sophomore year. Jane will be going to college, her room will be empty, and I can earn a little money to cover my expenses. I'll be fine."

"I'm glad."

Silence. Jack tapped her fingers against her knees nervously.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," she burst out after a moment.

"I can't believe you thought this would help me. Dammit." She ran her hand through her hair. "You understand that where my father is concerned, none of what happened is your fault, though, do you? If it hadn't been you, it would eventually have been someone else. He was never going to let me make my own decisions. It's not about what's best for me. It's about control, it has always been about control. Absolute control."

Miranda sighed deeply, leaning back into the cushions.

"I thought we'd both hurt more, in the long run, with your dad and... and this is scary. I didn't feel ready for all this. Like it's not just me anymore I have to worry about, or answer to." Jack looked down at her knees, heart beating hard, then she added quickly: "I love you, and it scares the shit out of me. So I was almost relieved to have found a reason to end it. A good reason. I felt so fucking noble. But being away from you hurt so fucking much. I'm an idiot. I've fucked up so badly, it must sound like a bad joke to you if I ask you for another chance."

Miranda was quiet for a long time, Jack's eyes still fixed on her knees, hoping for forgiveness. She looked up, startled, when Miranda's hand covered hers.

"Are you sure you want that?"

"I do."

"I know that all this is complicated." She looked at Jack, searching, brow furrowed. "And I love you, too. Even after all this, I still do. But if we're to try this, you have to stop doubting me. I want you to understand that this is what I want. You. Us. I can't go back and forth on this any longer, it hurts too much. And I don't need some sort of misguided protection. I want you to talk to me, not run away."

Jack nodded slowly, fingers closing around Miranda's.

"I'm trying. I'm sorry I suck at communicating."

"We'll have to learn how to do this properly, Jane's not going to be around to mediate between us much longer."

Jack snorted at that, feeling stupidly relieved.

"It's kinda pathetic that we needed that, though."

"It is, isn't it? Sorry."

"I expect you to make it up to me somehow." Miranda winked and reached out with her other hand, cupping Jack's cheek, thumb slowly brushing over her skin. Then she leaned forward, her nose rubbing against Jack's, their lips touching lightly, and Jack pulled her close, holding on to her as tightly as she could.

. . . . .

Jane kicked off her shoes and made her way into the kitchen, where her mom was leaving through a magazine.

"Hey, what..."

She put a finger to her lips, shushing her. Jane raised an eyebrow, but whispered:

"What's going on?"

Her mom got up and lead her over to the living room door, opening it quietly. Jane peered inside, confused for a moment, then beamed at the sight of Jack and Miranda curled together on the couch, fast asleep.

They went quietly back into the kitchen, where Jane turned her attention to the contents of the fridge, still smiling to herself.

"I just hope I won't have to deal with all the drama when you're gone," her mom said after a moment.

Jane chuckled.

"Just tell them to talk to each other every now and then, you'll be fine." She closed the fridge and added: "Have I ever told you that you're the world's best mom?"

"You got me a cup that says so," her mom replied, eyebrows raised, but smiling.

"Good! Because you are." Jane beamed at her. "Now excuse me, someone's been waiting to hear from me all day, and I have happy news!"

_~ The END ~_


End file.
